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PARISH 



AND 



OTHEE PEICILm&S. 



t/ 



\^1l 



BY KIR WAN, 



AUTHOR OF 

'LETTERS TO BISHOP HUGHES," "ROMANISM AT HOME," "MEN AND 
THINGS AS SEEN IN EUROPE," &c. 



^oPYR/C/yp 






NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
FRANKLIN SQUARE. 

1854. 



N^'/^ 






Entered, according to an Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
eight hundred and fifty-four, by 

Harper & Brothers, 

in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New York. 



TO 



THE REV. JOHN EDGAR, D.D., 

OF BELFAST, IRELAND, 



THE LEARNED PROFESSOR, THE UNTIRING PHILANTHROPIST, 
THE FAITHFUL MINISTER, THE DEVOTED CHRIS- 
TIAN, THE TRUE MAN, 



'ijiis Mum m MixMr 



BY HIS FRIEND 



THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



Very early in my ministry I commenced noting 
peculiar providences, and making brief notes in refer- 
ence to them. As I have had opportunity, these notes 
have been written out into brief articles, such as these 
which mostly compose the present volume. Some of 
them have been published under varying signatures, 
and have obtained through the religious press a wide 
circulation on both sides of the Atlantic. A few of 
them, reduced and compressed, have been published 
as tracts, and have in that form been widely scattered. 
I make this statement here, that none may be aston- 
ished at finding in these pages some articles they may 
have read with interest years ago, without knowing or 
caring who was their author. 

Save the three articles on Dr. Duff and the Nuncio 
Bedini, none have been published over the nom de 
plume of the author ; and these, with the article 
" Popery in the United States," have been inserted at 
the request of some friends, who deemed them worthy 
of preservation from the fate of most periodical essays 
— oblivion. 

The subjects of some of these Pencilings will doubt- 
less be recognized by persons residing in the places 
where the incidents narrated occurred. Making al- 
lowance for the difference caused by the different 



VI PREFACE. 

stand-points from which things are viewed, such will 
pronounce the narratives accurate. They are not fic- 
tion founded on fact. The same assurance is given 
as to those narratives whose subjects are not likely to 
be remembered. I have long ago rejected as greatly 
injurious, and as far-reaching in its evil tendencies, 
the principle of teaching religious truths under the 
garb of fiction. Prom much of the religious literature 
prepared for the young, the transition is much more 
easy and natural to the novel than to the Bible. Old 
people are often heard to complain of the slender and 
frail religious character of the rising generation. The 
cause may be traced to the trashy books prepared for 
the young, and for whose distribution the all-pervading 
agency of the Sabbath-school is not unfrequently in- 
voked. 

I am by no means indifferent to the reception which 
this volume may receive from the public. I invoke 
for it some of that kindness which has been shown to 
its predecessors; but my chief solicitude is, that it 
may be blessed of God to all who may favor it with a 
perusal. If it shall be blessed to the saving of one 
soul, I will thank Grod and take courage, and, perhaps, 
send forth another. Books are like sins — onQ is likely 
to bring another in its train. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

THE AURORA BOREALIS 9 

THE HAY-MOW 16 

THE TAP-ROOT • 28 

THE BIRD IN THE CHURCH 29 

THE FEARFUL FUNERAL 34 

THE BRILLIANT STAR 41 

THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED 4*7 

THE DANGER OF DELAY 54 

THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET 61 

" BUT I WAS NOT ONE OF THEM" 68 

LAURA ANN To 

THE SCENE IN A GRAVE- YARD 85 

HELENA, THE MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE 93 

THE FUNERAL AT SEA 99 

THE LAST GAME OF CARDS 106 

THE MORMON PREACHER 114 

CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN 121 

THANKFULNESS 128 

THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D.D 135 

BEDINI, THE PAPAL NUNCIO, GONE ! 14Y 

BEDINI AND DR. DUFF A CONTRAST 154 

BEDINI AND DUFF ANOTHER CONTRAST 160 

THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D 167 

REV. SAMUEL MILLER, D.D 172 

AN ELDER INDEED 179 

MARY MAGDALENE 186 

POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES 198 

A DREAM 212 

THE PRAYER OF FAITH 218 

DEATH-BED REPENTANCES 225 

THE SORROWFUL SERMON 240 

BEASTS AT EPHESUS 247 

DRIFT-WOOD 256 

A MOTHER IN ISRAEL 264 



PARISH PENCILING S. 



THE AURORA BOREALIS. 



The sight described. 



But few that saw it will ever forget the Aurora 
(or Northern Light) which occurred in the winter of 
1836-7. It was pronounced, at the time, to be the most 
briUiant and general that had been seen by any liv- 
ing man. It was not confined, as it usually is, to the 
northern section of the heavens. The whole horizon 
was illumined by arches of fiery hue, from which col- 
umns and sheaves of light, of the most variegated and 
beautiful colors, shot up toward the zenith, forming 
there a fiery coronet of the most transcendent beauty. 
The agitation of these columns and sheaves was some- 
times very great. Of a sudden these agitations would 
cease, and the light would die away, and the heavens 
would resume their wonted appearance ; but in a mo- 
ment these columns would shoot up again in increased 
size, and with greater splendor, giving an appearance 
of brilliancy and grandeur to the heavens which called 
forth the loud acclamations of the admiring beholders. 
For some weeks previous the earth had been covered 
with a deep snow, which a cold frost had made to 
sparkle with a peculiar brilliancy ; and such was the 
effect upon it of the Aurora, that streets, fields, and 
A2 



10 PARISH P E N C I L I N G S. 

A new hearer. My <irst visit. 

houses looked as if they were covered with blood. 
This remarkable phenomenon only disappeared from 
the sky as the morning light began to dawn. 

Not long afterward I observed, on Sabbath evening, 
and on the evening of the weekly service, in a corner 
of my lecture-room, a female who was a stranger to 
me, and, obviously, to the place. Her attention was 
marked ; her attendance became regular. Weeks 
passed away without my knowing who she was. I 
received a request to visit a family where was a woman 
anxious about her soul. As I entered the door I was 
met by the stranger I had seen in the lecture-room. 
I was favorably impressed by her subdued and respect- 
ful manner, her great frankness and candor, and her 
deep sohcitude to know the way to be saved. Taking 
my seat by her side, and after hearing her account of 
her feelings, I asked her if she understood the plan of 
salvation through Jesus Christ. Her reply was, "I 
am afraid I do not." 

^' Then, madam," said I, " will you permit me to ex- 
plain it to you in a brief and simple manner ?" 

" That," said she, '' is the very thing I want you 
to do." 

" Well, then," said I, addressing her personally, and 
applying every word to herself, " you are a sinner in 
heart and in life. God is angry with you every day. 
Every sin you have ever committed deserves eternal 
banishment from Grod : so that you deserve to die as 
often as you have sinned. From the guilt and punish- 
ment of sin you can not relieve yourself — nor can man 
or angel relieve you — nor can baptism or the Lord's 



THE AURORA BOREALIS. 11 

The way of life. Christ the end of the law. 

Supper, or any other rite, relieve you. And such is 
the nature of your sin, and of the justice and govern- 
ment of God, that you can not be saved unless law and 
justice are satisfied for the many sins you have com- 
mitted." 

I stopped a moment to see the effect of all this upon 
her mind. Looking at me with a.tearful eye, she re- 
plied in a subdued tone, " I feel all this in my soul. 
My fear of the anger of Grod which my sins have kin- 
dled is so great that I can not sleep or eat. My tears 
flow day and night." 

But,"" said I, '' there is a way of escape from the 
guilt and the punishment of sin. You are a sinner ; 
and Jesus Christ has died for sinners. He bore the 
sins of all who ever have, or ever will believe upon him, 
in his own body on the tree. The law requires us to 
be righteous in order to enter heaven ; and Christ Je- 
sus is the end of the law for righteousness to every one 
that believes upon him. If you feel yourself to be a 
sinner, you have nothing to do but to believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ in order to be saved. " If you repent 
of sin, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ — if you be- 
lieve what Jesus teaches — if you do as he commands 
— 'if, now, without a moment's delay, you can trust 
your soul and its concerns in the hands of Jesus Christ, 
without waiting until you are either better or worse, 
he will certainly save you ; for he says, '' Come unto 
me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will 
give you rest." 

With her bright and beaming eye fixed upon me, 
she drank in every word that I uttered ; and when I 



12 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The offer accepted. The history. 

concluded, she promptly replied, " This is just the way 
that suits my case." " Are you willing now," said I, 
" to believe in Christ, to cast yourself upon the merits 
of his atonement, to take him to be your Savior from 
all sin ?" '' Yes," said she, with the eagerness of a 
drowning man catching hold of the boat sent out to 
his rescue, " yes, 1 take him now to be my Savior ; I 
cast myself now upon the merits of his atonement." 

I prayed with her. When we arose from our knees 
her whole expression was changed, and a new song 
was put into her mouth. I felt there was a new tro- 
phy to redeeming grace and love before me. 

I now felt greatly desirous to know something about 
her history, the leading incidents of which she gave 
me with great frankness. She was born and educated 
a Eoman Catholic. Though well educated, she was, 
on the subject of religion, extremely ignorant. Al- 
though now in mid-life, and the mother of children, 
all the attention she ever gave to her soul was to go 
to mass and to confession; and even that she had 
given up for years, convinced of their utter worthless- 
ness. And up to the evening of the Aurora Borealis, 
she never had a conviction of her sinfulness. With 
thousands of others, she gazed upon the brilliant heav- 
ens and the apparently crimsoned earth. The thought 
of the final conflagration, and of her utter unfitness to 
meet that dread scene, seized her mind, and she re- 
tired to her room deeply impressed with the greatness 
of Grod, and her own sinfulness and ingratitude. Then 
was made the first of those impressions which resulted 
in her conversion. 



THE AURORA BOREALIS. 13 

iler husband. Solicitude. The result. 

Her husband was a Frenchman, of Protestant pa- 
rentage, but utterly regardless of religion. When he 
returned home on the evening of the day of my visit, 
she told him of my conversation v^ith her, and its ef- 
fects upon her mind and heart. She read to him from 
the Bible, and prayed with him. With his consent 
she erected the family altar. Her fidelity to him, and 
her deep anxiety for his salvation, created some rest- 
iveness, and he refused to hear her. In the deepest 
distress she sought my advice. I told her to increase 
her supplications for him in private, but to do nothing 
that would fret his mind, as that would be to defeat 
her great object. She retired resolved to follow my 
advice. 

Some weeks had passed away without my knowing 
any thing of what was going on in this little family. 
On a Sabbath evening, after a day of peculiar solem- 
nity in the house of the Lord, and when, with a de- 
jected spirit, I was thinking that I had spent my 
strength for naught, she appeared in my study with 
her husband. She narrated her conversation and 
prayers with him, and he frankly confessed his oppo- 
sition of heart to her change of mind, and especially 
to her conduct toward him in pressing religion upon 
him on all occasions. ''But," said, he, "her prayers 
and tears have broke my heart." 

" I told John," said she, " that if you would tell him 
what you told me, he would love G-od too, and that he 
would feel better in his mind and heart. I have strove 
to tell him all, but he does not understand me well 
enough, and I wish you to tell him about Jesus Christ." 



14 P A R I S H P E N C I L I N G S. 

The visit blessed. God uses various means. 

After hearing with intense interest their narratives as 
to each other's conduct, I spread out before John the 
plan of salvation, essentially as I had done a few weeks 
previous before his wife. "When I got through, I asked 
him, " How does this plan appear to you ?" His reply 
was, " It is the very one for me — I can now and cor- 
dially embrace it." I prayed with them, and when 
we rose from our knees John seemed a changed man. 
Before he left my study he felt that he could rejoice in 
Christ as his Savior. 

Not long after, they professed their faith in Christ, 
and although for years beyond the bounds of my min- 
istry, I believe they yet live to adorn that profession ; 
and their conversion may be traced up, as a means 
under G-od, to the Aurora Borealis. 

How plainly this narrative teaches the following 
truths : 

The means of G-od for impressing the minds of sin- 
ners, and leading them to himself for pardon and sal- 
vation, are exhaustless. 

A clear understanding of the plan of salvation 
through a Savior — of its freeness and fullness — of its 
sovereign efficacy when truly rehed on, is the only sure 
way of securing peace to the anxious sinner. 

How important that the believing wife should labor 
for the salvation of the unbelieving husband, and the 
believing husband for that of the unbelieving wife ! 

A word to the reader of this narrative. Are you a 
careless sinner ? If the Aurora- so impressed the mind 
of this woman, what will be your impressions when 
the elements shall melt with fervent heat — when the 



THE AURORA BOREALIS. 15 

To the anxious. The Christian. 

earth, with all that it contains, shall be consumed? 
Are you an anxious sinner ? Then Jesus died for sin- 
ners ; and he died for you, because you are a sinner. 
To be saved, you have only to believe upon him. Are 
you a Christian ? Then rise from the perusal of this 
narrative with the resolution to labor for the conver- 
sion of some soul, as this woman labored for the con- 
version of her husband, and yours may not be a star- 
less crown. 



16 PARISH PENCILING S. 



A lovely valley. The home of the Indian. 



THE HAT-MOW. 

My first settlement in the ministry was in a valley) 
in one of the Middle States, heautiful beyond descrip- 
tion. A broad and winding river enters it at the north, 
between two high, rocky peaks, which bear the evi- 
dence of being torn from each other's embrace by some 
dread concussion of nature ; and, after a course of fif- 
teen miles, takes its exit at the south, and through a 
gap probably made in the same way. On either side 
of this river the bottom-lands are exceedingly rich. As 
you leave the river, these lands gradually undulate, 
until, at the distance of about two miles, they rise into 
mountains on the east and west, which seem built of 
heaven to guard the quiet vale from all disturbing in- 
trusions. As the traveler reaches the brow of the east- 
ern mountain, a scene of surpassing loveliness spreads 
itself beneath him ; and he feels that if peace has not 
utterly forsaken our world, its residence must be there. 
The valley seems -as if expressly made for the home of 
the Indian ; and for moons beyond the power of his 
arithmetic to calculate, the red man fished in that riv- 
er, and planted his corn in that rich bottom, and sought 
his game upon the mountains. And before he could 
be compelled to yield it, he made the white man feel 
the power of his anger in many a dreadful surprise. 

But sin, and in its very worst forms, found an en- 



THE H A Y - M O AV. 17 

An unpromLsing field. First labors. A good man. 

trance into this beautiful spot. Early in the history 
of the settlement, a church was collected there, which 
continued a feeble existence until 18 — , when I be- 
came its pastor. Young, ardent, and without experi- 
ence, I here commenced my ministry, in a community 
proverbial both for its intelligence and its disregard of 
religion ; amid external opposition, and with a church 
small, and rent by internal discords. A more unprom- 
ising field none could desire. 

I entered on my duties with zeal, and was diligent 
in their performance. I prepared my sermons with 
care, and thought them conclusive ; but few heard 
them, and none seemed convinced by them. I felt 
deeply myself, but my hearers seemed unmoved. 
Months thus passed away without, to my knowledge, 
a religious impression being made on any mind ; and, 
feeling that I labored in vain, and spent my strength 
for naught, I was about giving up in despair. My 
preaching seemed more to excite the opposition of the 
wicked than the prayers of the pious. 

There was among my people a man in mid-life, a 
German by birth, and a remarkably simple-hearted, 
pure-minded Christian. Whoever was absent, he was 
always present at the place of prayer. One evening, 
early in December, as I was about retiring to rest, I 
heard a knock at my door, and my German friend was 
introduced, his countenance full of emotion. On tak- 
ing his seat, his first words were these : " My dear 
pastor, I have come to tell you that the Lord is about 
to revive his work here." Surprised at his appearance 
and language, and at the lateness of his visit, I asked 



18 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The hay-mow. Things change. First revival. 

him, " Why do you think so ?" He replied as follows : 
'' About eight o'clock this evening, I went up to my 
hay-mow to give hay to my cattle, and while there 
the Spirit of Grod came upon me, and has kept me 
there praying until now. I feel that Grod is about to 
revive his work, and I could not go in to my family 
until I told you." The entire simplicity and earnest- 
ness of the good man convinced me that God had vouch- 
safed to visit his servant. After some conversation we 
parted, mutually agreeing to pray and labor for a re- 
vival of religion, and to engage as many as we could 
to do the same. 

Every meeting for religious services was now to me 
one of intense interest. A few days convinced me that 
the spirit of prayer was on the increase. Meetings for 
prayer were numerously attended. The church on the 
Sabbath became more full and solemn ; and a fev/ 
weeks after that evening of wrestling with God on the 
hay-mow, found me in the midst of the first revival of 
my ministry, and one of the most precious I ever wit- 
nessed. 

Permit me to narrate a few incidents which occur- 
red during the progress of this revival, and which il- 
lustrate some great truths that should not be forgotten. 

Among the first that expressed seriousness was a 
fashionable and well-educated young lady, belonging 
to one of our richest families. She was the pride of a 
mother whose ambition it was to have her shine in 

elegant society. Miss E expressed a hope in 

Christ. In a few days she was sent to spend the win- 
ter in one of our principal cities with some gay friends, 



T H E H A Y - M O W. 19 

Miss E . A young man. Mr. C . 

who were directed to take her to all the fashionable 
amusements. She yielded to the temptation; and 
when she returned in the spring, seemed farther from 
the kingdom of heaven than ever. Another refreshing 
was soon enjoyed, when the former feelings of this 
young lady returned. She became hopefully pious, and 
in a few months the wife of a godly minister. And 
her large family, perhaps influenced by her example, 
followed her into the fold of Christ. 

There was in the place a young man, a profane, but 
yet an industrious mechanic. Like Nicodemus, he 
came to me by night to know what he should do to be 
saved. His feelings seemed of the most pungent char- 
acter, and his visits were often repeated. He thought 
he understood and could joyfully embrace the plan of 
salvation through Jesus Christ. Yielding to the influ- 
ence of one wicked companion, in a few weeks he for- 
sook the house of prayer and the people of Grod. As 
long as I knew him afterward, he was among the 
most obdurate men I ever knew. He ripened for ruin ; 
and not long ago, with one stroke, as the woodman re- 
moves the saplings out of his way, God cut him down. 
It is a fearful thing to quench the Spirit ! 

Mr. C was a pleasant, moral, and interesting 

man. Under the prayers and conversations of a pious 
mother, he grew up a friend to the institutions of re- 
ligion. His mind became deeply interested. But a 
more convenient season was always an excuse for the 
putting aside of present duty. In the midst of the re- 
vival, when some of the sturdy cedars of Lebanon were 
bowing, his aged mother, and with tears, besought him 



20 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Excuse me now. The mother's lament. 

to make Grod his portion. " Mother," said he, " you 
are dependent upon me for a subsistence, and so are 
my motherless children. To provide for you all is my 
pleasure and my duty. I am now engaged in a very 
profitable work among the mountains, and when I 
have made enough to support you all comfortably, in 
connection with my own industry, I promise you I 
will attend to religion. But you must excuse me 
now." And with a solemn warning against the folly 
of such reasoning from the lips of his aged mother, he 
hastened to his business among the mountains. On 
the evening of the third day from his departure, he was 
brought back to that mother, and was laid at her feet 
a mutilated corpse. Before he could escape its track, 
a log of timber rolling down a steep precipice caught 
him, and, rolling over him, almost ground him to pow- 
der. And as we laid him down in the grave, I heard 
that mother exclaim, in the bitterness of her sorrow, 
" Would to G-od I had died for thee, my son, my son." 
Oh the folly of boasting of to-morrow, as we know not 
what a day may bring forth ! 

Some of our pious people undertook the circulation 
of religious tracts. The tract " The Way to be Saved" 
was selected for the purpose of placing in the hands 
of our people a plain and simple guide to to the Savior 
of sinners. One of these was placed in the shop of a 
mechanic who was noted for his profanity and vulgar- 
ity. Blotting out the word " saved" in the title of the 
tract, he wrote in its place '' damned," so that the 
title, thus amended, read, " The Way to be Damned." 
Now tearing it nearly in two, he flung it into the 



THE HAY- MOW. 21 

The mutilated tract. Important lessons. 

street. It was soon picked up by a young woman, deep- 
ly serious, and who, although shocked by its title, car- 
ried it home. She read it with care ; she pasted the 
torn leaves together, and read it again and again. She 
went as directed, and found peace and joy in believing. 
And in a conversation with her about her hope, she 
drew from her bosom this mutilated tract, saying, 
" This is the little book that told me the way to the 
cross." If yet alive, I have no doubt she preserves it 
among her choicest treasures. Thus it is that God 
often makes the wrath of man to praise him ! 

Many instances like these occurred during that re- 
vival, which the time would fail me to enumerate. 
But even these emphatically teach us, 

1. That when faithfully and prayerfully discharging 
duty, ministers must not be unduly discouraged by 
unpropitious external circumstances. If they go 
forth weeping, bearing precious seed, they will re- 
turn again with rejoicing, bringing their sheaves with 
them. 

2. They teach us the power of prayer. It moves 
the hand that moves the world. That revival, with 
its consequent blessings, I have ever traced, under 
God, to that prayer on the hay-mow. The prayerr 
that God inspires he will answer. 

3. They teach us the awful guilt of parents who 
sacrifice the souls of their children at the shrines of 
worldly ambition. And, alas ! how many such parents 
there are ! 

4. They utter warning notes in the ears of those 
who quench the strivings of the Spirit, or who post- 



22 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Pearls cast before swine. Good men never die. 

pone the duty of submission to Grod now to an uncer- 
tain future. 

5. They teach us, that even pearls cast before swine 
may not be in vain. Through the wickedness of the 
wicked, G-od is ever accomphshing his purposes of love. 
How invincible the combined agencies of mercy, when 
even one mutilated tract becomes the instrument of 
life from the dead to a human soul ! 
- Years have passed away since this revival occurred. 
Some of its subjects have already entered on its re- 
ward. That simple-hearted, pious Grerman has gone 
up to his Savior. But the influences of that prayer on 
the hay-mow will live forever. Grood men never die ; 
they rest from their labors, but their works do follow 
them. May our churches never want members like, 
him who wrestled and prevailed with G-od on the hay- 
mow. 



THE TAP-ROOT. 23 

A way-side talk. The tree. Vain effort. 



THE TAP-ROOT. 

On a bright and bracing afternoon, early in March, 
returning from a visit to an afflicted family, I met with 
one of my intelligent parishioners sitting on a fence. 
A gorgeous sunset was displaying its glories in the 
west, and my friend gave true indications that the day 
closing around us had not been spent in idleness. 
" What," said I, in a friendly tone of recognition, " are 
you doing here ?" ^' I want," said he, '' to transplant 
that pretty elm into my door-yard, and I have been 
laboring here for hours to dig it up, in vain. The tree, 
perhaps, is a little too old to be transplanted ; but if 
removed early in the spring, and with a large root, 
trees frequently live, even beyond the age of this." 

I crossed the fence to take a view of the tree. So 
finely formed was it, I wondered not at the desire to 
transplant it where iU beauty might be observed and 
its shade be useful. I found it surrounded with a 
deep trench, and its lateral roots all cut ; and feeling 
that a strong push would lay it on the earth, I gave it 
one. Not. a twig nor a leaf moved the more on that 
account. I wondered, and turning to my friend, I 
asked, '' Why is it so firm, when so many of its roots 
are cut, and when united to the earth by a stem so 
small ?" " The tap-root," said he, " remains, and un- 
til that is cut it will remain firm." Hearing the 



24 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Tap-root. The explanation. The tree transplanted. 

phrase for the first time in my life, I asked, '' "What do 
you mean by the tap-root ?" '' Almost every tree," 
said he, " has its tap-root, which goes as straight down 
into the earth as the trunk goes into the air ; and un- 
til that root is cut, the tree stands, and will grow. And 
if I should fill up this trench now, the tree would feel 
hut little the cutting of all these lateral roots ; they 
would soon grow out, and the tree would be as strong 
as ever." 

We soon parted. I pursued my way home ponder- 
ing these remarks. The tree was transplanted, and 
now stands, a noble and beautiful tree, just in the 
place selected for it. My friend has been transplanted 
to another world. Years have passed since the above 
conversation, but it has never been forgotten. It has 
suggested many truths to my mind, and it explains 
many things frequently occurring under our own ob- 
servation, and which frequently cause doubt and hesi- 
tation. Some of these truths and things I wiU here state. 

Are trees transplanted with difficulty after they 
have received a certain growth? This all admit. 
The rule is, to transplant them, whether fruit, forest, 
or ornamental, when young. Such is the law which 
rules in the kingdom of grace. '' How can a man be 
born when he is old ?" is a question of emphatic im- 
port to those who have grown up to mature years be- 
yond the walls which inclose the Lord's vineyard. 

Has almost every tree its tap-root ? So every sin- 
ner has his besetting sin, which sustains him in his 
rebellion against God more than any other, and even 
when almost all others seem to be laid aside. 



THETAP-ROOT. 25 

The moral tap-root. One sin destroys. Covetousness. 

Are the lateral branches cut in vain until the tap- 
root is cut ? Does the tree stand until the tap-root is 
severed? So, as far as their salvation is concerned, 
men are reformed in vain from immoral practices un- 
til the heart is converted. A depraved heart is the 
tap-root of that tree of evil which bears fruit unto 
death ; and until that heart is taken away, the tree 
stands. Until this is effected, all reformation falls 
short of saving the soul. 

Is the tree sustained by one root when all others are 
cut ? Through that one root is it nourished into a 
permanent, if not a luxurious growth? So one sin 
unmortified, with its power over the soul unbroken, 
secures its final, its eternal loss. 

How manifold are the illustrations of these truths in 
the Bible ! "Why did Balaam, who understood the will 
of Grod, and saw the visions of the Almighty, do as he 
did ? Covetousness was his tap-root sin, and that was 
uncut. Why did Judas, after having preached the 
Grospel, and wrought miracles, and been numbered 
with the apostles, betray his master ? The answer is 
the same. "Why did Ananias and Sapphira, and Simon 
Magus, do as they did ? The answer is the same. 
Why did the young man, who asked of Jesus what he 
should do to inherit eternal life, and whom Jesus loved, 
do as he did ? In all these cases, covetousness was the 
tap-root sin, and that was uncut. covetousness — 
often miscalled prudence and economy, but, by Grod, 
idolatry — ^how many souls hast thou destroyed, and art 
thou destroying ! 

But I have said that the above conversation with 
B 



26 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Strong drink. Terrible end. A young man. 

my friend at the tree also explains many things fre- 
quently occurring, and which induce doubt and hesi- 
tation. Let me specify a few, by way of illustration. 

Under the ministry of a faithful pastor sat an ami- 
able man, with unfailing regularity, for years. All 
hoped he was a Christian. At each returning com- 
munion season it was expected that he would profess 
his faith in Christ; but he came not. None were 
more tender than he seemed ; and his pastor supposed 
that he was kept from the communion of the saints 
only by that diffidence and distrust which are often the 
accompaniments of true piety. A truer explanation 
came at last. He loved strong drink, but took it only 
at night. The appetite grew until it vanquished shame, 
and he became a daily and open drunkard. He for- 
sook the house and the ordinances of G-od. During 
the absence of his family at church on a certain Sab- 
bath, he drank beyond measure — ^he fell into the fire — 
and when his family returned he was dead, and a por- 
tion of his body burned to a cinder ! Why did not 
this man, in the days of his tears and tenderness, take 
Christ for his portion ? The tap-root was not cut. 

I knew a young man, who, although the child of 
praying parents, grew up an alien and outcast from 
the commonwealth of Israel. G-race is not hereditary ; 
it is the gift of Grod. In a spiritual refreshing he was 
deeply convicted— he hoped he was converted. He 
sought admission to the Church ; but fearing that all 
was not right, he was kindly requested to wait until 
the next communion season. In a few weeks after- 
ward he sat at a gambling table until the stars were 



THE TAP-ROOT. 27 

Reason of impenitence. The tap-root sin. 

quenched in the hght of the rising sun. And he con- 
tinued until his death tenfold more the child of hell 
than he was before. The tap-root was not cut. In- 
stances like these, without number, rise before me. 

And the prevalence of some one siu' — its reigning 
power over the soul — is the reason why every sinner 
that hears the (xospel does not believe it ; or, that be- 
lieves the Grospel, does not at once, by repentance to- 
ward Grod and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, seek the 
salvation of his soul. And the remaining influence of 
a sin whose power has been broken, is the reason why 
any Christian fails in consecrating himself a living sac- 
rifice to Grod. 

Reader, are you a sinner convinced of the truth of 
the Grospel, without repentance, without faith in Christ ? 
If so, how important to know the sin that holds you 
back from the work of your salvation. There is some 
one sin that does this more than any other, perhaps 
more than all others. "What is it ? 

A careful pondering of these questions may lead you 
to its discovery. What are the objects that most de- 
light you ? What are the gratifications on which you 
bestow most time ? thoughts as to what most in- 
trude themselves when alone ? The last thing which 
the sailor throws overboard, in his efforts to save his 
sinking vessel, is that which he deems most precious ; 
what is the sin you are most anxious to retain ? When 
you think of being a Christian, what is the sin, the 
pursuit, the habit, that you feel in prospect would give 
you the most pain to abandon ? These questions point 
to your besetting sin — ^your tap-root sin. Unless cut, 
you are lost. 



28 PARISH PENCILING S, 

Old sinners. An old sinner converted. 

But if old trees can not be transplanted, may not 
old sinners be converted ? Yes, they may. As to aged 
sinners, the difficulty lies in the nature of man, and 
of sin, and of evil habits, and not in the grace of Grod. 
Grrace is all-conquering when God sees fit to apply it. 
Reader, are you an aged sinner? I have seen the 
man, fourscore and tv^o years old, who bled in the 
battles of the Revolution — who learned its worst vices, 
and continued in their practice until the age stated, 
hopefully converted. I have seen him brought, trem- 
bling with palsy, in his arm-chair, to God's house, and 
there joining himself to the people of God ; and having 
commemorated the love of Christ, lifting up his with- 
ered hands to heaven in thanksgiving for the mercies 
vouchsafed. And his subsequent life and triumphant 
death testified that the work was of God. But in my 
experience, this stands out a solitary case, to check 
presumption on the one hand, and despair on the other. 

Reader, as you lay down this volume, after reading 
this article, take these thoughts for your meditation : 

1. You have a besetting sin, stronger in its bad in- 
fluence over you than any other. 

2. It is of the highest importance to you to know 
what it is. Resolve to know it. 

3. Reformation is not conversion. The tree stands 
when all its lateral roots are cut. 

4. Unless by the grace of God your heart is changed, 
all is vain. The tree of evil, whose fruit is death, re- 
mains, because the tap-root is not cut. 

5. However aged or wicked, there is grace and 
power to meet your case. Seek them without delay, 
and aright, and they are yours. 



THE BIRD IN THE CHURCH. 29 

The old church. The house of God. A revival. 



THE BIRD IN THE CHURCH. 

The town of E is emlDowered in trees. Its 

ancient and spacious church, with its chiming clock, 
and towering steeple of beautiful proportions, although 
in the centre of the town, is yet in the centre of forest 
trees, which nearly conceal it from view ; and, what 
is more, it is the centre and home of the affections of 
a people whose ancestors for nearly two hundred years 
have there worshiped God in spirit and in truth. 

And that ancient church is associated with many 
and wonderful displays of sovereign grace. It has 
been the birth-place of souls, the house of Grod, and the 
gate of heaven to multitudes. Under its ample roof 
thousands have consecrated themselves to G-od, and 
amid the ordinances there dispensed, have ripened for 
glory. 

In the year 18—, the people of E were favored 

with, perhaps, the most signal work of grace they ever 
enjoyed. The whole community was moved to its 
deep foundations, and persons of all ages and classes 
were in the pursuit of salvation as the great end of 
their being. Many, the blessed fruits of that revival, 
continue until the present day. 

On a Sabbath of that year of unusual brilliancy, in 
the late spring, that church was crowded with multi- 
tudes anxious about their souls, and hanging upon the 



80 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The Sabbath assembly. The bird in the church. 

lips of their beloved pastor, who, with earnestness and 
tears, was expounding to them the way of reconcilia- 
tion with Grod. Every thing in the external world — 
the balmy and reviving breezes — the new and beauti- 
ful dress which fields and forests were putting on — ^the 
trees budding, or in blossom — the blossoms setting in 
fruit, were in sympathy with the feelings of this wor- 
shiping people, and were but emblems of the spiritual 
transformations which were in progress among them. 
On this Sabbath the doors of the church were open, 
and the windows were all closed. During the prog- 
ress of the service, a bird entered by the door, and 
flew up to the vaulted roof, and, alarmed by the voices 
which it heard, gave every evidence of anxiety to make 
its escape. There sat in one of the pews a female un- 
der deep conviction for sin, and who, for months, had 
been seeking, without finding, peace for her soul. Her 
eye soon lit upon the fluttering bird, and followed him 
from window to window, in his vain efforts to escape. 
It sought an exit at every window, and almost at every 
pane of glass ; and as it fluttered from one window to 
another, this female would say in her heart, " fool- 
ish bird, why strive to get out there ? is not the door 
wide open ?" It would now rise to the ceiling — now 
renew its vain attempts at the windows ; this female 
repeating to herself, " foolish bird, why strive to get 
out there ? is not the door wide open ?" And when its 
wings were weary, and when all hope of escape seemed 
to be abandoned, and, as if unable to sustain itself 
longer, it lowered itself into the body of the church, 
caught a view of the door, and was out in a moment, 



THE BIRD IN THE CHURCH. 31 

Its release. The convert. Diversities of operations. 

singing a song of triumph over its release, amid the 
branches of the trees. 

When the bird was gone, the thoughts of this female 
reverted to her own state and doings. The voice of 
the preacher was unheard amid the conflicts of her 
own thoughts. " I have been acting," said she, ^' like 
that foohsh bird. I have been seeking peace in ways 
in which it is not to be found, and to go out from the 
bondage of sin through doors that are closed against 
me. Christ is the door ; through him there is escape 
from the dominion of sin. I have acted like that fool- 
ish bird long enough. What the door was to it, Christ 
is to me. As it escaped through the door, so may I 
through Christ." And she found peace in believing. 
And almost as soon as the bird commenced its melody 
in the trees, rejoicing over its escape, she commenced 
making melody in her heart unto the Lord. 

Years passed away, and her peace flowed like a riv- 
er whose gentle stream is never excited into a ruffle. 
Subsequently she had her periods of occasional depres- 
sion, but without ever forgetting that Christ is the door. 
Threescore years and ten passed away, and amid the 
infirmities of age Christ was yet precious as the door. 
She has recently put off" her earthly tabernacle ; and 
from the day that she saw that bird in the church, un- 
til the day that she passed in, through Christ the door, 
amid the spirits of the just made perfect, she never 
gave ground for a reasonable doubt that Christ was in 
her the hope of glory. 

How infinitely diversified are the ways and instru- 
mentalities by which sinners are led to be reconciled 



32 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The folly of sinners. Christ the door. 

to Grod ! " The wind bloweth where it Hsteth, and thou 
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
Cometh or whither it goeth; so is every one that is 
born of the Spirit." 

And how truthful the application of the folly of that 
bird, by that female, to her own case ! And is not its 
folly the folly of every sinner ? The first right feeling 
of a sinner returning from the error of his ways is a 
sense of his deep sinfulness in the sight of Grod. If 
this feeling is never felt, then, in ordinary cases, there 
is no return to God — we must die aliens to God, and 
continue outcasts from the light of the universe forever. 
But when the Spirit convinces and convicts of sin, how 
often is deliverance sought from it in the ways that 
the bird vainly sought to escape from the church ! The 
sinner flees to every thing that gives hope of deliver- 
ance but to the right thing. The Bible is read — ^pray- 
er is made — sin is abstained from — the worship of God 
is frequented — ^the advice of Christian people is sought ; 
but there is no escape from the dominion of sin — none 
from a sense of guilt, nor from the fear which it in- 
spires. All these are but as the windows to the bird^ 
which gave it hope that it might escape through them 
because they admitted the light. When it failed at 
one it flew to another ; each window, in its turn, ex- 
cited hope, and in every case the hope excited was 
dashed by the trial to escape. "When all is done, the 
weight of sin yet hangs upon the soul. And the reason 
is, there is yet no recourse to the remedy for sin, to the 
door of escape from its power and guilt. Christ is 
that remedy. Christ is that door. And so prone are 



THE BIRD IN THE CHURCH. 33 

Works. Central truths. The saving grace. 

men to do something to save themselves, that until all 
they can do is tried in vain, they will not look mito 
" the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the 
world." 

The great central truths of Christianity, so far as 
men are concerned, are these : we are sinners ; Christ 
Jesus has died to atone to law and justice for the sins 
of sinners, and whosoever heheves on the Lord Jesus 
Christ shall he saved. Reader, do you hope you are a 
Christian ? If so, you know all this hy experience. 
Never cease telUng these truths to all men as you have 
opportunity. Are you a sinner convicted of your sin, 
and seeking deliverance from it? Then imitate not 
the bird which sought an exit through the closed win- 
dows, to the forgetfulness of the open door. Waste not 
your time, and spend not your strength for naught in 
seeking relief at sources that never can yield it. Go 
at once to Christ; ponder this one truth until it is 
written in letters of living light upon your soul, " He 
that believeth on the Lord Jesus Christ shall he saved." 
Faith in Jesus Christ will save you ; nothing else can. 
B2 



34 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A queer visitor. Our conversation. 



THE FEARFUL FUNERAL. 

It was on the morning of a cold, chilly day in the 
month of April that I was thus interrupted in my 
studies by one of my children : '' Pa, there is a queer- 
looking man in the parlor who wants to see you." On 
entering the room, my eye lit upon a man who was 
queer-looking indeed, because his face, dress, and whole 
appeairance proclaimed him a drunkard. He rose on 
my entering the room, and, with that constrained and 
awkward politeness, amounting to obsequiousness, 
which the half-intoxicated often assume, he thus ad- 
dressed me : 

'' I come, sir, to ask you to attend a funeral this 
afternoon." 

"Who," said I, "is dead?" 

"A friend of mine," he replied, "by the name of 

S ; and as he has no particular friends here, I 

thought I would come and ask you." 

" "Where did he Uve ?" I again asked. 

" Why," said he, " he lived no place in particular, 

except at the grocery of Mr. ." This Mr. 

was the keeper of a groggery of the very lowest char- 
acter, where blacks and whites freely mingled in their 
revels, and which had often been presented as a nui- 
sance. 

I again asked, " Of what disease did he die ?" 



THE FEARFUL FUNERAL. 35 

The corpse. The audience. Ilis history. 

"Why," said he, dropping his countenance, and 
lowering his voice almost to a whisper, " I hardly 
know; but, between you and I, he was a pretty 
hard drinker." 

After a few more inquiries, to which I received an- 
swers in keeping with those given above, I dismissed 
him, promising to attend the funeral at five o'clock. 

At the hour appointed, I went to the house of death. 
There were ten or twelve men present, and, with two 
exceptions, they were all drunkards. I went up to 
the coarse pine coffin, and gazed upon a corpse, not 
pale and haggard, but bloated, and almost as black as 
the raven's wing. There were two brothers present, 
both inebriates, and as unfeeling as if the body of a 
beast lay dead before them. From the undertaker I 
gained the following narrative as to the deceased : 

" He was the son of respectable but irreligious pa- 
rents, who, instead of spending the Sabbath in the 
house of Grod, either spent it in idleness or in doing their 
own work." When desecrated, the Sabbath is usu- 
ally a day of fearful temptation. Sabbath sins make 
deep impressions on the soul. " While yet young, he 
became a Sabbath vagrant, joined profane compan- 
ions, acquired the habit of drinking, and so rapidly 
grew the love of drink into a ruling passion, that at 
mature years he was a confirmed drunkard. His pa- 
rents died, and the portion of property that fell to his 
lot was squandered. And for years," said my infor- 
mant, '' he has been drunk every day." 

" But how," I asked, " did he get the money to pay 
for the liquor ?" 



86 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Labor and pay. Inhumanity. The service. 

" He has been employed," he replied^ " hy Mr. 
to shoot sqmrrels in the woods, and to catch 



water-rats in the marshes ; and for the skins of these 
he has been paid in whiskey. Nobody would see him 
starve, and he usually slept in a garret over the grog- 
gery. Yesterday he was taken sick, very sick, in the 

grocery ; Mr. , instead of giving him a bed, 

turned him out of the house. He was then in a dying 
state, and, at a short distance from the house, fell in 
the street. He was taken into a negro hut and laid 
on the floor, where he died in less than an hour. The 
negroes were very ignorant and superstitious, and were 
afraid to have the corpse in their house. It was car- 
ried to a barn. This poor but pious family, hearing 
the circumstances, took the corpse to their house, and 
have made these preparations for its burial." 

I read a portion of the Scriptures, and for a few 
moments discoursed to them on the effects of sin ; I 
dwelt on the hardening and fearful effects of intem- 
perance. But there was no feeling. I prayed with 
them, but there was no reverence. They all gazed 
with a vacant stare, as if their minds had evaporated, 
and as if the fiery liquid had burned out their con- 
sciences. They were obviously past feeling. The 
coffin was closed and placed in the hearse. We pro- 
ceeded with slow and solemn pace to the house ap- 
pointed for all the living; and a feeling of shame 
came over me as I passed along the street, to be 
followed by half a dozen pair of inveterate topers. 
The coffin was placed upon the bier, and was carried 
by four drunkards, who were actually reeling under 



THE FEARFUL FUNERAL. 37 

The procession. The burial. The prayer. 

their load^to a secluded spot in the grave-yard, where, 
without a tear being shed, without a sigh being utter- 
ed, it was covered up under the cold clods of the valley ; 
and the two brothers went back to the house of death, 
the grog-shop, to drink, and to die a similar death, and 
to go early down to the same ignoble grave. The 
others, after lingering for a few moments, as if arrest- 
ed by the thought that the grave would be soon their 
house, followed. I stood for a short time over the 
grave after all had retired, pondering the deeply-im- 
pressive scenes through which I had so rapidly passed. 
*^And is this," said I to myself, "the grave of the 
•drunkard?" And the prayer, almost unconsciously, 
rose from my heart to heaven, " Grod, save my chil- 
dren's children to their latest generation from making 
such a contribution as this to the congregation of the 
dead." 

As I retired from the grave-yard, the following les- 
sons, suggested and illustrated by this narrative, were 
deeply impressed on my mind : 

1. Howgreat is the responsibility of parents! With 
what moral certainty they form the character of their 
children after the model of their own ! Careless and 
irreligious themselves, their children copy their exam- 
ple ; but, because destitute of their firmness of charac- 
ter, they yield to every temptation, until they can com- 
mit sin with greediness. Were the parents of this 
young man, who was laid down in a drunkard's grave, 
on which no tear of sorrow has ever fallen, truly and 
consistently pious, how different might have been his 
life and his death ! How many parents lay the foun- 



38 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Parental responsibility. Sabbath observance. Base business. 

dation for the temporal and eternal ruin of their chil- 
dren ! 

2. How sad the effects which usually follow the ha- 
bitual violation of the Sabbath ! All need the checks 
and the restraints which the due observance of the 
Sabbath places upon our depravity. The habitual vio- 
lators of the Sabbath are usually those hardened in the 
ways of sin ; and to become the associates of such is 
to insure the end of the proverb, " The companion of 
fools shall be destroyed." Had this young man been 
brought up to " remember the Sabbath day," he might 
have been savedto the cause of virtue and usefulness, 
and from an early, ignoble, and unknown grave. The 
due observance of the Sabbath is alike necessary to 
the attainment of temporal and spiritual good. 

3. How selfish and hard the hearts of those who live 
by rum ! It is a base business to sell it by small quan- 
tities for the sake of making a living. It is in opposi- 
tion to divine, and usually to human law. And so 
plainly is it under the ban of the world's reprobation, 
that but few, save '' the hardened wicked," engage in 
it. And if a man of kind and generous nature engages 
in it, his heart soon becomes a heart of steel. Mr. 

, the keeper of the grocery, was naturally a 

kind man ; he became a seller of liquor, against law, 

by the small measure. He kept and fed poor S 

as long as he was able to shoot squirrels or rats. Many 
is the day he spent in the salt marshes to earn his 
whiskey. And when his poor frame gave way under 
the vile work, the man who did so much to degrade 
him turned him out to die in the street. There is not 



THE FEARFUL FUNERAL. 39 

Rumsellers' deserts. Intemperance degrades. 

a class of men upon earth who deserve so Httle at the 
hands of their fellow-men as do these retailers of liquid 
death by the gill ! 

4. How degrading is the vice of intemperance ! It 
ruins soul, body, and character. ' And by elevating a 
mean appetite above reason, and conscience, and judg- 
ment, it degrades man to the level of the brute. Here 
was a young man, of respectable parentage, who, by 
taking glass after glass, became a drunkard. Habitu- 
al intemperance unfitted him for any business ; he be- 
came the tenant of a low grocery, the fumes from 
which, of a winter evening, were sickening ; he be- 
came the slave of a low grocer — for to earn a glass of 
whiskey, he would spend the day and sometimes the 
night in the salt marshes catching rats. When no 
longer able to earn his glass, he was turned out to die. 
After he breathed his last in a negro hut, his corpse 
was taken to a barn ; by the charity of the pious alone 
was his dead body saved from exposure, and by the 
hands of drunkards he was carried to an ignoble grave, 
unwept and unregretted. And all this is only the deg- 
radation which it brings on the body ! It is an im- 
mutable law of Jehovah that no drunkard shall ever 
inherit the kingdom of G-od. 

Drunkenness is thus characterized by Watson, an 
old Puritan divine : *' There is no sin which doth more 
efface God's image than drunkenness. It disguiseth 
a person and doth even unman him. Drunkenness 
makes him have the throat of a fish, the belly of a 
swine, and the head of an ass. Drunkenness is the 
shame of nature, the extinguisher of reason, the ship- 



40 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Its effects on the body. On the soul. Warning. 

wreck of chastity, and the murder of conscience. 
Drunkenness is hurtful to the body — the cup kills 
more than the cannon. It causeth dropsies, catarrhs, 
apoplexies ; it fills the eyes with fire, and the legs with 
water, and turns the body into a hospital. But the 
greatest hurt it doth is to the soul ; excess of wine 
breeds the worm of conscience. The drunkard is sel- 
dom reclaimed by repentance, and the ground of it is 
partly because, by this sin, the senses are so enchant- 
ed, the reason so impaired, and lust so inflamed ; and 
partly it is judicial, the drunkard being so besotted by 
his sin, God saith of him, as of Ephraim, he is joined 
to his cups, let him alone ; let him drown himself in 
liquor until he scorch himself in fire." 

reader, beware of drunkenness ; it is a degrading, 
damning sin. If you have already so far yielded to 
temptation as to have acquired a relish for it, resolve 
now never to taste again the fiery liquid. Remember 
the fearful funeral of the drunkard. 



THE BRILLIANT STAR. 41 

A wintry sky. Its beauty. An incident. 



THE BRILLIANT STAR. 

Who, in our northern latitudes, has not often gazed 
with wonder and admiration upon the sky, when a 
clear, cold wintry night adds new beauty to its mag- 
nificent scenery ? "When the atmosphere is cloudless, 
and the cold is severe, as if to compensate for the des- 
olation that reigns on the earth, the heavens put on 
new beauty, and the moon and the stars shine with 
unwonted and sparkling brilliancy ; and stupid must 
be the mind, and senseless the soul, that, canopied by 
such a wintry sky, does not ponder, wonder, and adore. 
We can readily believe that it was while gazing upon 
such a sky David was inspired to write the psalm in 
which he thus expresses the emotions that well up 
within him : " When I consider thy heavens, the work 
of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast 
ordained, what is man, that thou art mindful of him,, 
and the son of man, that thou visitest him ?" He is 
overpowered by the scenes of grandeur which surround 
him, and wonders that he is not forgotten amid the 
cares which an empire so vast devolves upon the High 
and lofty One. 

It was on such a wintry night that the following 
incident occurred: The sky was cloudless, the cold 
was intense, the very air seemed frozen into stillness ; 
the earth was covered with a deep snow, which added 



42 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A young lady. The brilliant star. Humming. 

at once to the "brilliancy and dreariness of the scenery. 
There sat by a cheerful fire, in one of our rural vil- 
lages, a young lady of fine intellect, and highly culti- 
vated. Although religiously educated, and often deeply 
solicitous about her salvation, she was, up to this time, 
a stranger to the grace of Grod, and was on this even- 
ing more than usually careless. Attracted by some 
noise in the street, she went to the window. Her at- 
tention was immediately arrested by the remarkable 
beauty of the heavens, and by the sparkling of the 
stars. She stood gazing on the splendid panorama in 
mute admiration. One star of remarkable brilliancy 
attracted her eye. The more she gazed on it the more 
she admired it, and as she gazed, it seemed to increase 
in size and brilliancy, until it filled the field of vision 
— until the lesser lamps which hung around it went 
out in the effulgence of its light. This glowing, brill- 
iant, admired star at once suggested the " Star of 
Bethlehem ;" and, almost unconscious to herself, she 
commenced humming the well-known lines of Kirke 
White: 

" When marshalled on the nightly plain, 
The glittering host bestud the sky, 
One star alone of all the train 

Can fix the sinner's wandering eye." 

Soon the star in the sky was forgotten amid the 
thoughts concerning Christ that rushed in upon her. 
The Divine Spirit, at times, performs its peculiar work 
with great rapidity. Her mind wandered from the 
star in the sky to the '' Star of Bethlehem," then to 
Jesus Christ. The question rapidly arose, Why did 



THE BRILLIANT STAR. 43 

The " Star of Bethlehem." Led to Christ. 

Christ come in the flesh ? why did he die ? Her intel- 
ligent mind and her right education promptly suggest- 
ed the true answer, He came to save sinners, and he 
died the just for the unjust. "With the rapidity of a 
mind waked up by the Spirit to a due sense of the 
guilt and danger of an unconverted soul, she ran to 
the conclusion, '' Then I am a sinner, and I need a 
Savior." And with these two thoughts written upon 
her soul as with the point of a diamond, she retired 
from the window to her chair by the fire, the arrows 
of conscience piercing her through and through. What- 
ever was the character of her previous convictions, 
these were obviously the work of the Spirit. She 
sought mercy in that way in which the Lord has never 
failed to grant it — in the way of repentance toward 
God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. The light 
of the " Star of Bethlehem" illumined her soul. She 
connected herself with the Church of Christ, and, amid 
scenes of activity, and usefulness, and happiness, she 
often sang as to that star, 

" It was my guide, my light, my all, 
It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 
And through the storm and danger's thrall 
It led me to the port of peace." 

This incident teaches many lessons of great practi- 
cal importance, to a few of which we ask the serious 
attention of the reader. 

1. It teaches us how various are the means by 
which Grod accomplishes his own purposes of grace. 
While the preaching of the Gospel is the great means 
for leading sinners to a Savior, it is not the only means. 



44 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Various means of grace. The only question. The Spirit needed. 

A Jewish maid, and a slave in the family of Naaman, 
was the cause of his washing in the Jordan, and of 
his cure from the disease of leprosy, and, as is heheved, 
of his conversion ; the Church is indebted for Samuel 
to the prayers of his mother ; Paul was arrested by a 
voice from heaven ; Luther was converted by the read- 
ing of the Bible; Newton, during a storm at sea; 
multitudes by the reading of a book or a tract ; and 
this young woman by the brilliant shining of a star 
on a wintry night. If " the invisible things of him 
from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being 
understood by the things that are made, even his eter- 
nal power and godhead," may he not use all the things 
which he has made as agents to direct men unto the 
Lamb of Glod that taketh away the sin of the world ? 
And we believe that a true history of the conversion 
of men would show that all the things which Grod has 
made have been made subservient to the accomplish- 
ment of his purposes of mercy and grace. None should 
therefore be anxious as to the agency employed ; the 
great question is as to the result, Have I been led to 
Christ? 

2. It teaches us the need of the Spirit to render 
means effectual to salvation. Without it no means 
can arrest the wandering mind or change the heart ; 
'with it, the most feeble means are effectual to produce 
these results. This all are made to feel. The most 
faithful and powerful preaching is in vain without the 
Spirit ; without it, in the use of means, we are as one 
that beateth the air ; with it, the most feeble means 
are powerful to the conversion of the most hardened 



THE BRILLIANT STAR. 45 

The needful prayer. Powerful teaching. 

and hopeless. This young female had heard many a 
sermon — was often deeply impressed; of the truth 
of reUgion she was fully convinced. And although 
brought up amid the very sunlight of truth, never was 
she led to believe with the heart unto salvation until 
her attention was arrested by the bright shining of that 
star on a wintry night. Surely Paul may plant, and 
Apollos may water, but it is Grod alone that can give 
the increase. And as it is the Spirit that takes of the 
things of Christ, and that shows them unto us, the cry 
of the Church, and of every individual to whom the 
news of this salvation is sent, should be for the Spirit. 
Then the glorious sun, the silvery moon, the twinkling 
star, the little tract, the larger volume, the stately tome, 
will all be found co- working with the Bible and the 
preaching of the Grospel to direct sinners unto the 
Lamb of Grod that taketh away the sins of the world. 
Then truths are taught by stones, sermons are preach- 
ed by brooks, every star in the sky is associated with 
the Star of Bethlehem, and God is seen every where. 

3. It teaches us how inexcusable are sinners for 
not believing in Christ. If the law and the prophets 
all point to his coming, the law and the prophets, and 
the apostles and evangelists, all teach us that it is only 
through faith in him we can be saved. Conscience 
unites with revelation in teaching us that we are sin- 
ners. And the clearest deductions of our minds unite 
with conscience and revelation in teaching us that he 
that believeth in the Son hath life, and he that believ- 
eth not in the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of 
God abideth on him. And to the Savior of sinners 



46 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The unbeliever without excuse. 

Grod is directing us by all the things which he has 
made — by all the occurring providences around us — 
by all the means of grace which he has appointed. 
And if the light of that star brilliantly shining in a 
wintry sky led that careless mind to the Star of Beth- 
lehem — thence to the coming and to the cross of Christ 
— ^thence to her own sinfulness and to her need of a 
Savior — thence to the exercise of faith in him, what 
can excuse your unbelief when truth and duty stand 
revealed before you in the meridian light of heaven — 
when the cross of Christ rises before you as the only 
hope of the sinful — when the Spirit and the bride are 
uniting their voices with those of the Bible, and of the 
ministry, and of your mind, and of your conscience, 
entreating, imploring you to believe in the Lord Jesus 
Christ, that you may be saved ? 



THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED. 47 

What habit and education, and of the Spirit. A wish. 



THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED. 

Among individuals religiously educated, and brought 
into the Church under the ordinary means of grace, it 
is at times difficult to discriminate between what is 
the result of education and habit, and what of the 
teachings and influence of the Divine Spirit. The line 
which separates these it is difficult, perhaps impossi- 
ble, clearly to draw. A religious education is a pow- 
erful means of grace ; and so gently and quietly do the 
rain and dew of the Spirit descend upon the seed thus 
sown in the youthful mind, that oftentimes the re- 
sult, which is love to God, would seem to be a fruit, 
not of spiritual agency, but of natural growth ; and 
oftentimes, on self-examination, the most intelligently 
pious find themselves in difficulty and in darkness be- 
cause of their inability to distinguish between the in- 
fluence of education, theory, and custom, and the work 
of the Spirit on their hearts and lives. This truth, 
every where felt in the experience of the pious, often 
gave rise to the wish that I might become acquainted 
with somebody who, on the subject of religion, knew 
nothing but what was taught by the Spirit. I sup- 
posed there would be a freshness and a simplicity about 
the exercises of such that would place them in broad 
contrast with those which are more or less fashioned 
by our theoretic views of divine truth, and by the 



48 PARISH PENCILING S, 

A greeting. The person. At Sunday-school. 

habits and forms into which we are educated. And 
of such an individual I became, on my second settle- 
ment, the pastor. 

On Sabbath morning, as I was retiring from the 
church, after preaching my first sermon to my new 
charge, I was arrested by a man in the belfry in a 
way peculiar and striking. His garb was plain — ^his 
form of the middle size — ^his countenance had a vague, 
but yet a pleased expression. Without waiting for an 
introduction, he came forward and earnestly extended 
his hand to grasp mine. The pressure was painfully 
cordial ; and while one hand pressed mine, and the 
other his own bosom, he said, '' I thank you for that 
sermon ; it has done my soul good." His voice was 
indistinct and husky, and his appearance not prepos- 
sessing; but there was a heartfelt cordiality in his 
greeting which impressed me with his thorough sin- 
cerity. On the next Sabbath, and on the next, he met 
and greeted me in the same way. As he had reached 
mid-life, I marked him as a peculiar character. 

I soon visited the Sabbath-school ; and the very first 
person that arrested my attention was this man, sitting 
in one of the classes surrounded by young boys, and 
reciting with them his lesson. My curiosity being ex- 
cited, I went and stood by his class, and found him 
spelling his way through a verse of one of the Gospels, 
and obviously without understanding the sentiment 
which it taught. On inquiry, I learned that he was 
the son of Christian parents ; that his mother, who 
was a woman of marked piety, had been deceased for 
years ; and that, because of the great feebleness of his 



THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED. 49 

Desire quickened. His historj'. His one reason. 

intellect, he could never be taught to read. As the 
name of the Savior was constantly on his lips, as his 
piety seemed to he of the most ardent character, my 
curiosity was greatly quickened to learn the details of 
his religious history, which is briefly as follows : 

As his mental debility early developed itself, his 
pious mother became the more solicitous that he should 
be taught of the Spirit of Grod. Daily did she pray 
with him ; and, selecting the simplest truths of the 
Grospel, daily did she seek to impress themi on his mind. 
But if his mind was feeble in sense, his heart was 
strong in depravity, and these means were ineffectual. 
After he reached mature years, there occurred a gentle 
refreshing of the Spirit. A meeting for conference 
with the serious and inquiring was appointed, and he 
was among those who attended. From week to week 
his seat was never vacant. "When candidates for the 
communion of the Church were invited to meet with 
the session, he was among those that attended. "When 
asked if he hoped he was a Christian, his emphatic re- 
ply was, '' I hope I am." About the doctrines of the 
Church he knew absolutely nothing, and when ques- 
tioned in reference to them, he made no reply. He 
could give no reason for the hope which was in him. 
"When asked why he hoped he was a Christian, laying 
his hands on his heart, he answered, " I feel that I am 
here." "With some fears, he was admitted to the 
Lord's Supper, and the whole of his subequent life 
demonstrated that he was born from above. 

In the year that he made a profession of religion 
his mother died. Feeble as was his mind, the impres- 

C 



50 PARISH PENCILING S. 

His heaven. His one topic. Ilis one hymn. 

sions which she made upon it were never erased. His 
very highest conception of heaven was that it was the 
place where his mother went to see Jesus, and his 
highest ecstacy was induced by the thought that when 
he died he would go to heaven to see Jesus and his 
own dear mother. 

There was but one thought which seemed to enter 
his soul, and that entirely occupied it. This was con- 
stantly obvious. Preach on what subject I might, 
nothing was understood, nothing felt, unless it was the 
love of Christ. For years, rarely a Sabbath passed 
away without his greeting me in the belfry ; but noth- 
ing was said about the sermons unless they dwelt upon 
the love of Christ. Then his usual expression was, 
" That sermon is good to my soul ; it told me about 
the love of Christ." 

He frequented prayer-meetings sustained by the 
young people and for their mutual benefit. One of 
his weaknesses was to make exhortations in these 
meetings, and until they became an annoyance. But 
he never succeeded in getting beyond one idea ; and 
upon that — '' the love of Christ, the love of Christ" — 
he would ring changes for fifteen minutes together. 
That one idea occupied and filled his whole soul. It 
was the one constant theme of his conversation every 
where. The only hymn that ever seemed to have 
impressed him, or whose singing he ever seemed to 
enjoy, was that called " Loving Kindness." How- 
ever dull and uninterested he seemed to be in a 
prayer-meeting, the moment the first notes of the 
hymn 



THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED. 51 

At the prayer-meeting. His zeal. His visits. 

" Awake, my soul, to joyful lays. 
And sing thy great Redeemer's praise," 

fell upon his ear, his countenance brightened up, and 
his whole soul was in sympathy with the song of 
praise. And when in a social meeting which did not 
greatly interest him, his peculiar voice was often heard 
saying, " Sing Loving Kindness." 

His zeal, though not always according to knowl- 
edge, was of the purest character, and knew no relax- 
ation. Was any person sick in his neighborhood ? He 
was among the first to find it out and to visit the sick- 
bed. And feeble as was his comprehension of truth, 
and broken and repetitious as were his prayers, I have 
often heard the sick speak of the comforts which they 
received from his visits. He often preceded the min- 
ister and the elder — often conveyed to them the infor- 
mation of sickness and affliction, and solicited their 
attention ; and often prayed and exhorted where their 
services might not be kindly received. The perfect 
confidence entertained by all in his sincerity induced 
them to forget his extreme feebleness, to overlook what 
would be regarded as intrusion in others, and to put 
the best possible construction on all that he did. I 
heard a profane scofier say, after recovering from a 
sick-bed on which he had been often visited by this 
man, " "Well, if there is a Christian upon earth, it is 
Uncle Nehemiah." More than once, when his minis- 
ter was sick and in affliction, did he come and ask the 
privilege of praying with him and his family. Such 
was his life for years together. 

And in full keeping with his life was his death. 



52 PARISH PENCILING S. 



A pious mother. Regeneration. 



During the protracted sickness which brought his days 
to their close, I frequently visited him. There was an 
unshaken confidence in Christ — a cloudless enjoyment 
of the light of his countenance ; the love of Christ was 
his constant theme. The very last words that he ever 
uttered in my hearing were about going to heaven to 
see Jesus Christ and his dear mother. 

There are a few truths which this narrative of the 
life and death of "Uncle Nehemiah," as he was famil- 
iarly called, forcibly teach and illustrate. 

1. It teaches us how deep and durable are the im- 
pressions which may be made on the minds of her 
children by a pious mother. Here was a mind, be- 
cause of its feebleness, difficult of impression ; yet a 
pious mother so impressed it, so engraved her own 
image upon it, as that nothing could erase her impres- 
sions or image. How deeply must it have been im- 
pressed with a sense of her piety, when its highest 
idea of heaven was that it was the home of Jesus and 
his mother 1 What might the sons of the Church be, 
if all their mothers were like the mother of Nehemiah ! 

2. It illustrates the truth of the great doctrine of 
regeneration. This consists, not in submission to the 
ordinances and forms of religion, but in being created 
anew in Christ Jesus. In his youth, Nehemiah was 
wayward, and, like persons of mental feebleness gener- 
ally, greatly under the influence of passion. Submis- 
sion to ordinances and forms could not correct this; 
the formal Jew, the Papist, the Mohammedan, can go 
out from their most solemn ritual observances as 
wicked and as turbulent as ever. Nothing but a 



THE ONE TALENT SANCTIFIED. 53 

The saving grace. The polar star. 

change at the great spring of life can permanently 
change the life. There was no intellectual power here 
to moralize — no judgment to strengthen — ^no reason to 
w^ake up to its duty — no capacity to instruct. And 
yet there is a great, obvious, and permanent change. 
How account for it ? In no way save on the ground 
of a change of heart by the power of the Holy G-host. 

3. It also illustrates what is the great saving truth 
of the Gospel. It is a simple view of Christ as the 
Savior of sinners, and a simple resting upon him as 
our Savior. Other truths are important — ^they are im- 
portant to a well-balanced faith and life, but the great, 
essential truth is faith in Christ. " He that believeth 
in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved." This is so 
plain, that a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not 
err respecting it. When this faith is wrought in us 
by the Holy G-host, then, whether we possess the ex- 
pansive intellect of Paul, or the feeble one of Nehe- 
miah, Christ is the polar star of the soul. 

Oh, if aU the intellectual endowments of the profess- 
ors of the rehgion of Christ were consecrated to his 
service, as waS the one talent of this feeble child of 
heaven, how soon would the wilderness and solitary 
portions of earth rejoice, and the desert blossom as the 
rose ! How hath God chosen t 
world to confound the mighty ! 



54 P A R I S H P E N C I L I N G S. 

Veterans. Their mixed character, A soldier's heart. 



THE DANGEE OF DELAY. 

" I hope my time will come yet." 

A FEW years ago, many of the veterans of the war 
of the Revolution were found scattered over the East- 
ern, Middle, and Southern States, the remnants of that 
noble generation who plighted their lives, property, and 
sacred honor to secure the liberty of our country. 
Among these were men who went from their knees to 
the battle strife, and who returned from the field of 
their victory or defeat to their closets, to lay down 
their palms and laurels before Grod, or most humbly to 
deplore the sins which caused them to flee before the 
enemy, and to implore the interposition of Almighty 
power in the next conflict to which they should be 
called. Among them, also, were men who carried with 
them throtigh all their subsequent life the vices ac- 
quired in the camp, and that indifference to religion, 
which, alas ! so frequently accompanies the profession 
of arms. The heart in which those stern and tumult- 
uous passions reside which fit man for a brave soldier, 
and which are nurtured into a vigorous growth by 
actual and hard service, is usually a heart difficult to 
be impressed with the great truths of the G-ospel. 

There was in my congregation, when I became its 
pastor, one of these noble men, far advanced in life, in 
whom I became quite interested. When I first saw 



THE DANGER OF DELAY. 55 

An aged patriot. Old age. Exhortation. 

him he had passed his fourscore years, and, although 
exceedingly feehle, his large frame and his flashing eye 
bore abundant testimony to what he once was. Al- 
though in private life a most amiable and inoffensive 
man, he indulged too freely in strong drink, and was 
utterly careless as to his future state. In my occa- 
sional interviews with him, I found him always ready 
to converse on topics pertaining to the war of our In- 
dependence, but upon religious topics he was utterly 
silent, save in assenting or dissenting by a ^'yes" or 
"no" to my questions. 

Hearing that he was quite sick, and rapidly ap- 
proaching the close of his long life, I hastened to see 
him. It was on a cold day in early winter. I found 
him bolstered up in a large armed -chair, and covered 
with warm clothing, and sitting in front of a fire to- 
ward which he was a httle inclined, sustaining him- 
self with a staff which he grasped with his tremulous 
hands. A more striking illustration of the utter fee- 
bleness to which age may reduce the strongest frame 
I never saw. The suns of almost ninety years had 
now rolled over him ; and although utterly helpless as 
to his body, his mind was clear and collected. I sat 
by his side, and as kindly and tenderly, but yet as 
pointedly as I could, I spoke to him of sin, and of death, 
and of judgment, and of salvation through faith in the 
finished work of Jesus Christ. He assented to all I 
said. I told him that the sands in his glass were al- 
most run — that the grave must soon be made his house 
— and I sought to impress upon him the infinite need 
there was of employing the last and rapidly waning 



56 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Assents. Immediate duty pressed. The reply. 

hour of life in securing the salvation of his soul. I 
told him of Manassehj who in old age lifted up his 
bloody hands for mercy to heaven, and found it. I told 
him of the dying thief, who, in the agonies of death, 
implored mercy from a Savior, and received it. Hop- 
ing from his appearance that I had excited a little emo- 
tion, I asked him directly. Do you feel that you are a 
sinner? '^O yes," he replied. "Do you think that 
you can go to heaven without faith in Jesus Christ ?" I 
again asked him. He hesitated a moment, but em- 
phatically replied ^' No." Feeling that I had now a 
ground upon which I could strongly press home im- 
mediate duty, I again asked him, ''AVhy not commit 
your sinful soul this moment into the hands of Jesus 
Christ, who says to you as well as to all men, ' Him 
that Cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out V " 

He hesitated for a few moments. I resolved not to 
break the silence. I watched every movement of his 
countenance to see if I could read the emotions of his 
soul. Feeling that I was waiting for a reply to my 
last question, he made a slight effort to rise from his 
inclined position, and finally said, in a low and tremu- 
lous voice, " I hope my time will come yet !" Never 
did I hear a sentence fall from human lips which more 
deeply affected me, or which has been more constantly 
before my mind. It swept from me at once the fond 
hopes I was beginning to indulge that he yet might be 
saved — it seemed to ring the very death-knell of his 
soul. Groing on to ninety years^ — ^unable to get up or 
lie down of himself — with his grave just before him — 
confessing his belief in all the great truths of the Gros- 



THE DANGER OF DELAY. 57 

The time came not. Death. Deceptive hope. 

pel, and yet, when pressed to lay hold on Christ as an 
all-sufficient Savior, turning away from eternal life, 
saying, '^ I hope my time will come yet !" The delu- 
sion seemed awful ! 

But that time never came. He lingered on a few 
weeks. One spring of life failed after another. Soon 
all access to his mind was closed ; and afte-r lingering 
in perfect unconsciousness of all that was passing 
around him for a few days, his immortal spirit went 
up to the judgment. His hope was as the spider's 
web. His time never came. 

The incident teaches many important lessons worthy 
the serious consideration of every thinking man. 

1. It teaches us the extent to which this fallacious 
hope prevails. We find it on the lips of youth, who, 
although persuaded of the truth of religion, will not 
surrender the pursuit of unsatisfying pleasure to em- 
brace Christ. It is on the tongue of those in mid-life, 
who are so much concerned in the things of a day as 
to have no time for the things of eternity. And we 
find it on the faltering tongue of old age, when the 
candle of life, burned down to the socket, is emitting 
its last lurid rays. Although the excuse of a heart in 
love with sin and averse to G-od, yet it deceives those 
who indulge it, because often uttered seriously, and 
because fostering the expectation of future amend- 
ment. But the worst of all devils is the devil who, to 
gain his purpose, puts on the garments of an angel of 
light. He is emphatically the Deceiver. By the hook 
whose barb is concealed under the gilded bait of future 
amendment, he draws souls to perdition. Infidelity 

C2 



58 PARISH PENCI LINGS. 

The man-slayer. Ignis fatuus. Expel the deceiver. 

and open wickedness have slain their thousands, but 
'' I hope my time will come yet" has slain and is slay- 
ing its tens of thousands. Through every day on 
which the sun shines upon our world, it is making 
fearful additions to the number of the lost. 

2. It teaches us the deceptiveness of this hope. " I 
hope my time will come yet." No time is fixed. No 
resolution is made. Every thing is left indefinite. No 
barriers are thrown up against the encroachments of 
sin. No position is taken against the wiles of the ad- 
versary. And all this time depravity is fortifying it- 
self in the heart, and Satan is multiplying the cords 
that bind us to sin, and is casting up new difficulties 
in the way of our return to G-od. " I hope my time 
will come yet." And that time, like the hour of death, 
is a retreating point before us. It seems equally dis- 
tant at sixty as at twenty. Like that luminous me- 
teor, the ignis fatuus, the offspring of corruption, 
which retreats before its pursuers, and which allures 
them to destruction, it retreats as rapidly as we foUow 
it. It is as far before us in old age as in youth. "When 
our feet are upon the crumbling verge of the stream 
of death, it is flaming brightly on the opposite bank. 
In our pursuit of it we fall into the stream, and, after 
a few fruitless struggles to reach the shore, we are 
carried down into the ocean of eternity. 

And this is the deceptive hope which many are in- 
dulging. And although it deceives from youth to 
manhood, and from manhood to old age, how few, oh 
how few expel the deceiver ! How rarely we again 
trust the man that has deceived iis once, and yet we 



THE DANGER OF DELAY. 59 

Sinners cheat themselves. The thing to be sought first. 

rely upon this hope, which has only deceived us for 
threescore years and ten, as implicitly as if it had ful- 
filled to the letter all it ever promised ! Indeed, it so 
bewitches man that he is absolutely pleased with the 
dexterity with which he cheats himself out of heaven, 
by putting off repentance to a retreating point which 
he never reaches. It only asks for the present, it ever 
points to the future ; it asks for to-day, and points to 
to-morrow; it asks for this year, and points to the 
next. And thus, by piecemeal, it cheats us out of all 
time, and finally hurls us, without repentance and un- 
prepared, into eternity. Dear reader, are you one of 
those who indulge this fallacious hope ? Oh, expel it 
from your bosom j else it will prove the assassin of your 
soul ! 

3. It shows us the importance of improving the 
present time to secure the great end of our existence. 
That end is the salvation of the soul and the glory of 
G-od. If the soul is lost, life is a lost adventure ; if 
the soul is lost, all is lost. Hence the emphatic, the 
infinite importance of the precept of the Savior, " Seek 
first the kingdom of G-od and his righteousness." 
The due improvement of present advantages is the 
great lesson which God and the world are teaching 
their votaries. G-od says, as to the soul, <' Now is the 
accepted time." '^ To-day, if you will hear his voice, 
harden not your hearts." 

But, instead of obeying the command of G-od, will 
you yield rather to your own sinful inclination, and 
say, " I hope my time will come yet ?" If so, remem-: 
ber the case of my aged friend, which I have here 



60 PARISH PENCILING S. 

An exhortation. Sails without breezes. 

spread before you. This delusive hope may decoy you 
onward from youth to middle life, thence to old age. 
And when the curtains of this life are dropping around 
you, and when your frail tabernacle is just returning 
to the dust, even then you may be left to the ineffable 
folly of saying, " I hope my time will come yet." And 
without seeing the time for which you hoped, and 
without the needful preparation to meet God in judg- 
ment, you may be ushered into a rayless, hopeless 
eternity, to be a homeless wanderer from the light of 
the universe forever. 

Put not off present duty to an uncertain future. 
Act in the present and for the future. Fix not even 
a time in the future for repentance. This is boasting 
of to-morrow. You may never reach it ; or if you do, 
there may be no desires after Grod. Or you may have 
desires — you may lift up your sails to catch the wind 
of heaven, but there may be no celestial breezes to fill 
them, and you may have to lie down in everlasting 
sorrow. As you value, then, the life of your soul, say 
not, oh say not, '' I hope my time will come yet." 



THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET. 61 

A feeble hope. Duty. Objections. 



THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET. 

Harriet B was a teacher in my Sunday-school, 

and although not a professor of religion, she was far 
more punctual and faithful to her duties than many 
that were. She was a memher of my Bible-class, and 
was among its most intelligent and interested mem- 
bers. Soon after I became her pastor, attracted by 
her serious deportment and intelligence, I sought an 
interview with her for religious conversation. Although 
remarkably diffident, she expressed a feeble but intel- 
ligent hope in Christ. She thoroughly understood her 
demerits as a sinner ; she had the clearest views of 
the way of salvation through the atonement and right- 
eousness of Christ ; she fully comprehended the great 
truth, that faith is the saving grace ; and she hoped 
she did believe in Christ. 

Having ascertained this to be her state of mind, I 
placed before her her duty to connect herself with the 
Church of Grod. She expressed her great unworthi- 
ness of such a privilege, and her great unfitness for 
communion with the saints. She spoke much of her 
remaining corruption, of her varying feelings, of her 
besetting sins ; and she expressed it as her conviction 
that none should attach themselves to the Church un- 
til they were assured of their good estate. I strove to 
instruct her upon the difference between faith and 



62 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Expectation excited. Disappointments. Last inten'iew. 

assurance. She soon comprehended me, and feehng 
that I had gained my point, and that at the next com- 
munion, which was then near, she would profess faith 
in Christ, the interview closed. 

The communion season came and passed away, and 
Harriet, as usual, was only a solemn spectator of the 
solemn scene. Repeatedly had I interviews with her 
similar to that now narrated, and at the close of each 
I indulged the hope that at the next communion sea- 
son she would connect herself with the Church. But 
these hopes, often indulged, were as often disappointed. 
Her fidelity to her Sabhath-school class — 'her regular- 
ity in attendance upon all the means of grace — her 
readiness to do for the cause of Christ, never intermit- 
ted ; hut communion seasons and years passed away 
without her confessing Christ before men. 

Late on a summer evening, I was called from a so- 
cial circle of Christian friends to see Harriet before she 
died. She was seized with a fever, which, before it 
was feared, had almost extinguished life ; and before 
she passed away from earth she desired one more in- 
terview with me. Her dying chamber presented a 
scene never to be forgotten. The family, save her 
mother, who had previously passed into the skies, were 
around her bed, and, with a mind clear and collected, 
she was rapturously speaking to them about Jesus, and 
the glory, honor, immortality, and eternal life which 
he had purchased for all that believe in him ; and 
with a propriety and earnestness that I have never 
known surpassed, she exhorted them all to believe and 
to obey Christ. Never did I witness such a change. 



THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET. 63 

Great change. Last regret. Dying charge. 

The diffident, retiring female was now all confidence ; 
the tongue that was almost dumb now sweetly and 
delightfully sung ; the tremhling hope was exchanged 
for assurance and joy, and the hand which she dared 
not put forth to partake of the elements of the broken 
and shed blood of Christ, was now extended to grasp 
the crown of glory. 

When the excitement of addressing her impenitent 
friends had passed, and she had recovered a little from 
the exhaustion, I took my seat by her side, and held 
with her my final interview until we meet in glory. 
Her confidence in Christ was strong and cheerful. 
The clouds which, like dark curtains, had so long hung 
around her mind, had all passed away, and the light 
of the Savior's countenance shone upon her with the 
brightness of the sun in its strength ; and after re- 
questing me to preach a sermon to the young, after 
her burial, on the text, " Prepare to meet thy G-od," 
she uttered, with the deepest emotion, the following 
memorable sentiment : '' Would, would, oh would that 
I had taken your advice^ and that I had confessed 
Christ upon earth ! I hope to enjoy him forever in 
glory ; but from the joy and from the bliss of having 
confessed Christ before men, I am now, and shall be 
forever, excluded. "Warn all not to do as I have done." 
I prayed with her and bade her farewell. Soon after- 
ward the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was 
broken, and her spirit rose up to the God that gave it. 

This narrative has deeply impressed upon my mind 
a few truths, which I desire to place upon record for 
the prayerful and serious consideration of every reader, 



64 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Faith and assurance. Prerequisites. 

1. Many, very many are prevented from professing 
Christ before men because they discriminate not be- 
tween faith and assurance. Here was the practical 
error of Harriet, and which for years kept her from the 
communion of the saints. Faith is beheving what 
Grod has said to be true, and treating it as true ; as- 
surance is the persuasion that I do beheve — ^that I am 
a Christian. These are very distinct. Faith is trust- 
ing in Christ for mercy ; assurance enables us to say, 
I know I believe. The great prerequisite for profess- 
ing Christ before men is a cordial behef in Christ, and 
not the assurance that we are Christians. Reader, are 
you in the state of mind of her whose brief narrative 
I have here placed before you? Do you believe in 
Christ ? Then wait not for assurance to profess Christ 
before men. "With the delightful persuasion that Christ 
is mighty to save, willing to save, waiting to save, all 
that beheve, go and devote yourself to his service, and 
follow him in the way, and assurance and all the other 
graces which grow along the path of obedience will be 
yours in due time. 

2. Many are prevented from professing Christ be- 
cause of wrong views of the prerequisites to such a 
profession. It is the superficial and unconverted that 
usually press their way into the Church ; the serious 
and sober, to whom God has revealed what is in their 
hearts, usually, like Harriet, are found waiting at the 
gates, and watching at the posts of the doors, anxious 
to enter in, but yet afraid, lest all may not be right. 
She felt her unworthiness of such a privilege ; but who 
are worthy ? She felt unfit for the communion of the 



THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET. 65 

Who fit ? True greatness. Promptness in duty. 

saints ; but who are fit ? And are not the best and 
hohest members of the Church, like ourselves, imper- 
feet ? She spoke of her remaining corruption, but so 
did Paul ; and of her varying feelings, but so did David ; 
and of her besetting sins, but these had all the saints. 
It is far better to feel unfit than fit — unw^orthy than 
worthy. Christ came, not to call the righteous, but 
sinners to repentance. It is they who are sick that 
have need of the physician. It is the weary and heavy- 
laden that Christ invites to himself for rest. Reader, 
is the question before your mind, Shall I or shall I not 
profess Christ before men ? As you would do duty in- 
telligently, and follow Christ truly, I implore you to 
permit nothing to enter into its settlement but that 
which truly belongs to it. Do you feel that you are a 
sinner ? Do you feel that Christ alone can save you ? 
Do you feel that you can rest alone upon him for sal- 
vation, as he is offered to you in the Grospel ? 

" Let not conscience make you linger, 
Nor of fitness fondly dream." 

Gro and join yourself to the people of G-od, and follow 
Christ in all the paths of duty, and your light will be- 
come brighter and brighter even unto the perfect day. 
To profess Christ before men, the great prerequisite is 
a true and lively faith in him. Let all of whom be- 
lieving and doubting Harriet is the representative ^ 
ponder this truth, until they see it in the broad light 
in which it is written on the pages of the New Testa- 
ment. 

3. Let none think that they can serve Christ as 
fully, and possess the joys of salvation as abundant- 



66 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A false principle. Obedience. Follow the Lord fully. 

ly, without professing him before men, as by so doing. 
This position, though often asserted, is utterly false. 
It involves a general principle which lays the axe at 
the root of the Church as a divine institution. If one 
may serve Christ fully away from the Church, so may 
all ; and if all adopt this principle, what becomes of 
the Church ? It passes away from the earth in two 
generations. 

Besides, obedience is better than sacrifice, and the 
test of true obedience is to follow the Lord fully. Can 
we so follow him away from his Church and people, 
when we have the opportunity to join them ? Is there 
a solitary case to be found among all the records of 
men in proof of this ? "Who, on their dying bed, have 
ever rejoiced that they served Christ disconnected with 
his Church ? I have known many who attempted to 
do this, and in every case I could trace it to a latent 
desire to serve G-od and mammon. And the Savior 
tells us this is impossible. 

The dying Harriet felt, when trembling on the con- 
fines of eternity, that her faihng to confess Christ be- 
fore men would subtract from her joy forever. And 
she felt truly. One of the most precious promises of 
the Savior is made to those who confess him before 
men. And I feel that I should be disobedient to her 
dying injunction, unless I lift my voice, warning all 
men every where against those errors which, dying, 
she deplored. There are consolations in Christ which 
none can truly know, here or hereafter, but those that 
follow the Lord fully. 

4, Harriet died in her youth, and while putting off 



THE DYING REGRET OF HARRIET. 67 

Postponement. A lower song. Do duty. 

a present duty to a future day. That future day she 
never saw, and the duty was never performed. And 
"before she entered the chariot which conveyed her to 
glory, she felt, and she said, that her song of praise to 
the Redeemer must be lower than the song of those 
who confessed Christ amid many tribulations, who 
washed their robes and made them white in the blood 
of the Lamb. Reader, do duty to-day. Your highest 
duty is to follow Christ — so follow him as you will 
wish you had done when you come to die. These 
truths are addressed to you from the death-bed of 
Harriet. 



68 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Pastoral visitation. The farm-house. 



"BUT I WAS NOT ONE OF THEM." 

I AM one of those pastors who continue the good old 
apostoUcal practice of visiting ^' from house to house" 
among my people ; and although a most laborious, it 
is an exceedingly important and efficient way of doing 
good. It gives access to minds and hearts that can 
never be reached from the pulpit ; it tends to bind pas- 
tor and people together, and it is richly suggestive of 
topics for public instruction. 

On a damp and chilly day in the month of Novem- 
ber, I went forth on a pastoral visitation among my 
people. It was my first regular visitation after my 
settlement among them. As the day was drawing to- 
ward its close, I entered a farm-house wearing exter- 
nally and internally an air of comfort. Every thing 
was in pleasant preparation for my reception. On 
either side of a glowing fire sat the father and mother 
of the household, now well advanced in years ; and 
ranged between them were the other members of the 
family, the youngest child, then a lad of about fifteen 
years, holding his catechism in his hand. He could re- 
peat it from beginning to end, showing that, as to the 
theory of religion, his education was not neglected. I 
went round the family group conversing with each as 
to their personal interest in the Work of Christ for the 
salvation of men. Every thing was free, social, and 



BUT I WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. 69 

None pious. The father. His address. 

pleasant ; but while with an intelligent understanding 
of the plan of salvation, and while freely admitting that 
there was no way for them to heaven but through faith 
in Jesus Christ, I found, to my great grief, that parents 
and children were aliens from the commonwealth of 
Israel. After giving to each a word of instruction 
adapted to their circumstances, and to the views ex- 
pressed by them in conversation, we bowed together 
before the high and lofty One ; and having implored 
for them all temporal and spiritual good, I bade them 
farewell. 

The father, whose natural strength many years had 
not impaired, and whose kind and gentle manners made 
him a favorite among his neighbors, followed me to the 
door, and, closing it after him, stopped me on the porch. 
His countenance gave strong indications that there was 
something pressing upon his soul which he wished to 
communicate. Hoping that the Holy Spirit had bless- 
ed my visit to his conviction, I waited with anxiety to 
hear what he had to say. After a considerable pause, 
taking me by the hand, he thus addressed me : 

" I thank you for this visit ; although the first you 
have made us, I hope it will not be the last. I thank 
you for all the advice you have given us ; and as you 
have but just commenced your labors among us as a 
minister, I wish to give you a word of advice, based on 
my own experience. Let us old people alone, for we 
are hopeless subjects, and devote your labors to the 

youth of your flock. Forty years ago, when Mr. A 

was our pastor, I was greatly anxious about my soul. 
Many were then converted, but I was not one of them. 



70 PARISH PENCILING S. 

IliB narrative. Let the old alone. His progress. 

During the ministry of Mr. M I was often greatly- 
anxious about my soul — I went to the conference- 
meeting — many were converted in the successive re- 
vivals enjoyed, but I was not one of them. And now, 
for years that are passed, I have not had a single feel- 
ing on the subject. I know that I am a lost sinner — 
I know that I can be saved only through Jesus Christ 
— I feel persuaded that when I die I shall go to hell 
forever — I beheve all you preach— I believe all you 
have said to me and my family, but I feel it no more 
than if I were a block of marble ; and I expect to live 
and to die just as I am ; so that my advice to you is 
to leave us old people to ourselves and our sins, for you 
can not do us much good, and devote yourself to the 
work of seeking the conversion of the young." 

And all this, and more, was said with a kind and 
pleasant bearing, which forbade every thing like sus- 
picion of his motives ; and yet with a cool dehberate- 
ness which made me feel that the man was a mystery. 
After placing before him the fullness of the redemption 
which is in Christ Jesus, we parted. 

I remembered the incident, and watched the progress 
of this man. His seat was rarely vacant in the sanc- 
tuary. To hear the word preached, he breasted many 
a storm which kept the professor of religion at home. 
I made him other visits; and while he admitted all I 
said, and freely confessed his lost state, I never wit- 
nessed in him the slightest ruffle of religious emotion. 
He was a true prophet of his own fate. He lived as 
he predicted, and so he died. And we laid him down 
in a hopeless grave, after having spent his threescore 



BUT I WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. 71 

His cud. Power of custom. 

years and ten without repentance toward Grod, or faith 
in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the midst of a congrega- 
tion over which Grod has often made windows in 
heaven. 

The lessons taught by this incident are very obvious, 
highly important, and deeply impressive. To a few of 
these, the prayerful attention of the reader is earnestly 
requested. 

Are you advanced in life? Are you approaching 
the verge of old age ? Then ponder, unless you are a 
Christian, the many probabilities that you will never 
be converted. ''Can a man be born again when he 
is old?" Being long habituated to certain ways of 
thinking and doing, the aged find it difficult to change. 
Old ways and things become, to a certain extent, sacred. 
Hence their attachment to old modes of dress and of 
living — to old habitations and associations. The old 
heathen die as they live. The aged papist dies as he 
lives. The most gross absurdities of his system of 
worship become interwoven with his feelings on the 
subject of religion, and form the most sacred part of it ; 
and the aged moralist, infidel, atheist, die as they live. 
Custom renders every thing easy ; and the man who, 
through a long life, has been accustomed to hear and 
to assent to the truth of heaven with indifierence, will, 
to a moral certainty, die as he lives. His habits are 
to him what his skin is to the Ethiopian — 'what his 
spots are to the leopard. 

And the ground of the moral certainty that you will 
not be converted Hes not in G-od, but in yourself. Grod 
is ever waiting and willing to be gracious ; but you 



72 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The aged warned. The convicted. The hard heart. 

have been so long accustomed to neglect every call to 
work out your salvation, that there is no probability 
that you v^ill now attend to it. But, although your 
feet are on the borders of time, you have only to look 
to Jesus in true faith to be prepared for eternity. At 
the eleventh hour of your life, the G-ospel puts the cup 
of salvation into your trembling hand. Oh hasten to 
drink it, remembering that this hour is on the wing, 
and that, when it ends, you will be in the grave, where 
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor re- 
pentance. 

Are you one of that large number who have been 
often convicted of sin without being converted ? who 
have been often deeply impressed with divine truth 
without receiving " with meekness the ingrafted word 
which is able to save your soul ?" If so, then yours is 
an alarming state. You are passing through that pro- 
cess which has converted many a tender heart into a 
heart of steel. Of this process there are many illustra- 
tions. The young physician is excited, perhaps dis- 
gusted, the first time he witnesses a dissection ; but he 
will soon use the knife upon the living or dead subject 
without the least emotion. The young soldier, when 
he first treads the battle-field, is filled with fear and 
trepidation ; but in the course of time the clangor of 
the war-trumpet is to him the sweetest music, and 
the field of his highest glory is the field of blood and 
carnage ; and in a similar way, the heart that melts 
under the preaching of the Grospel, and that trembles 
at the word of the Lord, becomes as hard as the flint, 
and as unimpressible. This state is gained by slow 



BUT I WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. 73 

Satan's wisdom. Sealing the death-warrant. 

stages. Satan does not permit the heart to offend the 
judgment by asking too much at once. He asks but 
here a little and there a little. And, by degrees, the 
judgment is perverted, and the conscience is seared, 
and fear is overcome, and the warnings of G-od's word 
and providence lose their point and power, and the 
most awful truths of heaven, whose reality the mind 
never questions, fall as lightly upon the soul as does 
the snow-drop upon the rock. Thus we pass on from 
youth, when the feelings, like the bosom of the ocean, 
are ruffled by the slightest zephyr, to old age, when the 
feelings are like the Dead Sea, whose surface can 
scarcely be excited by the sweeping whirlwind, and 
which, if excited, soon relapses into its sullen stillness. 
And the longer the process is continued, the harder the 
heart becomes. If religious impressions, often made 
on your mind, have been as often erased, yours is a 
fearful state. I| the slightest whisper of the Spirit yet 
calls you to the cross, go at once, lest, when that whis- 
per dies away upon your ear, the Spirit may take its 
flight, saying, " He is joined to his idols ; I will here- 
after let him alone." This will be sealing the instru- 
ment which consigns you to eternal death. 

Are you yet in your youth, with the dew of the 
morning of your life sparkling on your green leaf? 
Then has this incident a most important lesson for you. 
If difficulties, many and great, impede the conversion 
of the aged, how important to secure your salvation 
while young ! Many promises are now in your favor, 
but they are daily diminishing. Your heart, now easily 
impressed, is becoming harder and harder. You are 

D 



74 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Seasons of youth and old age compared. 

now comparatively "but little occupied witk the world, 
but it is throwing daily a new fold around you. You 
should not be ignorant of the important truth that the 
probabilities of your salvation are becoming fewer and 
weaker as your years roll on. It is an easy matter to 
break up the earth in April and May,, and to plant in 
its bosom the good seed that bears fruit in autumn ; 
but what power can cultivate it when congealed by the 
cold, and covered by the snows of December ? Seize, 
oh seize, then, the halcyon days of youth to prepare for 
old age, death, and eternity. Wait not until covered 
by the rust, and weakened by the infirmities of years. 
To-day, if you will hear His voice, harden not your 
heart. Opportunity, grace, mercy, heaven, eternal 
glory, are all upon the wing of the present hour ; con- 
demnation, hell, eternal despair, the worm that never 
dies, may all be in the train of the next. So improve 
your youth as not to be left to say in old age, " Many 
were converted, but I was not one of them." 



LAURAANN. 75 



The day. The family. Laura Ann. 



LAURA ANN. 

It was the afternoon of the week for my family 
visits. A cold November storm was brewing, and 
amid the unpleasant and chilling drizzle by which it 
is often preceded, myself and elder went forth to our 
duty. Regarding the church as the centre of the 
parish, my custom is to commence my visits with the 
most distant families, and to visit toward the centre. 
As we passed along, I observed a parishioner cutting 
wood in his yard, and sought in vain a nod of recog- 
nition. Little did I suspect the train of thought which 
was passing through his mind. We soon reached this 
family in the regular order of visitation, and found 
every thing ready for our reception. The parents were 
not pious ; and Laura Ann was about four years old, 
sitting at her mother's knee. They admitted the im- 
portance of religion ; they confessed belief in all its 
doctrines ; they had no excuse to offer for remaining 
in a state of impenitence. The duty of immediate re- 
pentance and of faith in Christ was urged, and having 
obtained a promise of immediate attention to personal 
and family duty, we prayed with them and retired ; 
and of this interview Laura Ann was a youthful but 
apparently absorbed witness. 

On the next week we met these parents at a prayer- 
meeting at some distance from their residence. There 



76 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The change. Its effects. Her j'outh. 

was an obvious change in their appearance and de- 
meanor. The countenance of the one was cheerful 
and hopeful — of the other, confiding, but shaded : both 
were hoping in Christ. On the day of that family- 
visit they had committed themselves to God, and 
erected the family altar, and had resolved to serve the 
Lord as long as they lived. When chopping wood, he 
saw me pass his house : he had arranged in his mind 
what to say to me when I returned to make my visit 
— he would give this excuse, and then that ; but by 
the time I reached his house, every excuse was given 
up one after the other, and when the interview took 
place, he frankly confessed that he was a sinner, and 
without any excuse for his impenitence. They found 
Christ at the same time, connected themselves with 
the Church at the same time, and they yet live, prov- 
ing by a simple, humble life of obedience that the 
Lord created a right spirit within them. 

The delicate, sedate, and thoughtful appearance of 
Laura Ann, as she grew up from childhood to youth, 
greatly interested me. When examining her in the Cat- 
echism, and explaining to her the way of life through 
Jesus Christ, I have seen her whole mind absorbed, 
and her eyes often suffused with tears. Before she 
was twelve years of age, the disease which had marked 
her for an early grave made its appearance. She was 
withdrawn from school, and was soon^confined to the 
house and to her room. On my first visit to her bed 
of sickness, I was greatly interested in her state of 
mind. "She felt that she must die, and her great anx- 
iety was to have a true preparation for her change. I 



LAURA ANN. 77 



Her sickness. First visit. Her disposition. 

briefly explained to her the plan of salvation through 
Christ. She felt she was a sinner — she knew and ap- 
preciated the great truth that Christ Jesus died for 
sinners, and would save to the uttermost all that would 
believe in him ; and she felt that she could believe on 
him to the saving of her soul. And yet she felt that 
she was not a Christian. But when I simplified the 
way of life, and placed before her what it was that 
constituted the Christian, and gave a true ground for 
hope in Christ, a cloud seemed to pass away from her 
sky, and she said, " If this is so, I think I can say, 
* Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.' " I believe 
she had been previously converted ; and before my 
first visit to her bed of sickness was ended, she had a 
comforting evidence that she was a child of God. 

Her disposition was the most confiding, simple, and 
child-like. Her disease slowly progressed to its term- 
ination, as if for the purpose of permitting her graces 
to grow and to bear fruit ; and from the first hour 
of her expressing a hope in Christ until the silver 
cord was loosed and the golden bowl was broken, her 
confidence was as firm as the truth upon which it 
was based, and her hopes as bright as the promises 
which inspired them. 

Sitting by her bedside, she said to me, " "While I 
know that there is nothing saving in Church connec- 
tion, and that I shall never be able to go out from this 
room to commune with the people of the Lord at the 
Lord's table, yet I would be greatly gratified to con- 
fess Christ before men, and to identify myself with 
his visible people." I told her that her desires could 



78 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Reception. Thankfulness. Tenderness for parents. 

be gratified in these respects ; and a smile of joy im- 
mediately lit up her pale countenance. A committee 
from the Session went to her sick-room, one of whom 
was an aged and venerated man, deeply read in a 
Christian experience. They united in stating to their 
brethren that a more interesting or satisfactory evi- 
dence of love to Grod they had never heard from young 
or old. And she was received to the communion of 
the saints, although unable ever to meet with them in 
the breaking of bread ; and the fact of her connection 
with them was an unfailing source of comfort to her. 

Her uncomplaining submission to the will of God 
was remarkable. Instead of fretting under the hand 
of the Lord, or complaining that she was sick when 
others of her companions were well, she was often 
heard to rejoice that she was so early attacked with 
consumption. ^' It is a protracted disease," she would 
say, " and gives me time for preparation and examin- 
ation ; and it has come early in life, before strong at- 
tachments and ties to earth were formed." Often 
have I heard her say, " I can not be too thankful that 
I am dying of consumption."^ 

Her solicitude as to her parents was of the most 
deep and delicate character. Often afflicted with hem- 
orrhage, she concealed the blood in cloths about her 
bed, and had them removed without their notice. 
When asked why she did so by her mother, her reply 
was, " I could not bear to see you suffer the pain which 
these repeated evidences of my incurable disease gave 
you." A portrait of her, by an artist in the town, was 
suggested, to which she readily consented, and solely 



LAURAANN. 79 



Reconciling them. Hope preferred to health. 

on the ground that '^ it may be a comfort to my parents 
when my body is in the grave — when I will be present 
no more to comfort them." And when these parents 
would sit sorrowing by her side, she would enter with 
them into the most sweet and earnest conversation, to 
reconcile them to her sickness and early death, and to 
prove to them that for her "to depart and to be with 
Christ was far better" than to remain on earth, and to 
jeopardize her salvation amid its cares and besetting 
sins. And she succeeded in her efforts ; for never did 
parents more tenderly love a child, or more cheerfully 
surrender one when God called her away. 

Her cheerful piety, scarcely shaded by a single cloud 
of doubt, rendered her sick-room very attractive. As 
her pastor I was often there, and never without receiv- 
ing at least as much instruction as I imparted. " You 
often feel, I suppose, Laura," said I to her, "a desire 
to recover, and to serve (rod by a life of active obe- 
dience." She promptly replied, "Upon that subject I 
have no desire or will. I refer all to God. I am afraid, 
if I should get well, I might lose my hope and confi- 
dence in Christ ;" and after a brief pause, caused by 
weakness, she ended the sentence, saying, with a look 
and tone never to be forgotten, " I would rather have 
my hope than my health." Christ and his cross was 
her ceaseless theme, and that not in a forced way, but 
ih a manner the most easy and free. Her words and 
feelings were as natural as the waters coming up from 
a living spring. Shortly after her reception into the 
Church, she was visited by a pious female, who failed 
to say any thing to her on religious matters, at which 



80 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Surprise. Age instructed. Recognition in heaven. 

she expressed great surprise. She greatly dehghted in 
the visits of an aged elder, whose life for many years 
had been hid with Christ in Grod, and who never re- 
tired from her room without feeling that he was the 
one edified and benefited. 

Her meditations often took the direction of recogni- 
tion in the spiritual state. She sought my opinion 
upon the subject, which served to confirm her in her 
own previous conclusions. Thenceforward she was 
confirmed in the belief of the mutual recognition of 
the blessed in heaven ; and the belief she used as a 
source of consolation to herself and of comfort to her 
friends. To an aunt, who, in retiring from her room, 
asked her what she would say from her to her cousins, 
she replied, " Tell them that I expect soon to meet 
Sarah Ann in heaven." Sarah Ann was a cousin who 
had died but a short time before in the triumphs of 
faith. 

With great intelligence she marked, for months, the 
progress of her disease. "When her feet began to swell, 
she remarked, " The struggle, thank Grod, will now 
soon be over." " My Church, and minister, and the 
people," she said, " are very dear to me ; I wish to be 
buried in that grave-yard, where my parents can visit 
my grave, if they wish, when they go to church on 
the Sabbath." She now made distribution of her lit- 
tle effects to her friends, to be kept as memorials of 
her when she was gone. To a younger brother, who 
has since been laid by her side, she gave a Testament, 
in which she ordered the following lines to be tran- 
scribed, written with her own hand : 



LAURAANN. 81 



Brief epistles. 



" My dear Brother, — You are young, but you have 
a soul to save. Pray every day, and read this Httle 
book. Pray for a new heart, and that you may be 
prepared to meet me in heaven. E-emember your dy- 
ing sister, Laura." 

For a young sister she laid aside a Sabbath-school 
book, and wrote the following lines, to be written in it 
after her death : 

*' My dear Sister, — If it is your wish to meet me 
in heaven, you must prepare. We soon shall part : 
shall we ever meet again ? Prepare to meet thy Grod. 
Eemember the dying words of your sister 

" Laura." 

To a cousin she wrote, 

" I feel that I must soon take my departure. Oh, 
what a sweet thing to be resigned to die ! I feel that 
I can put my entire trust in Jesus my Redeemer. 

" Laura Ann." 

Having made distribution of her articles, she felt 
she had then nothing to do but to die, and then " to go 
home to heaven." Looking out from her window, she 
said, " I know I shall never walk these streets more, 
but I shall soon walk the streets of the New Jerusa- 
lem." On being asked whether she was willing to 
leave all her friends, she replied, with spirit and energy, 
" yes ; the enjoyments of this world are nothing in 

D2 



82 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Her last hours. Benefits of family visitations. 

comparison with the enjoyments of heaven." Waking 
from a deep slumber on the last Sabbath morning of 
her life, she exclaimed, " How lovely every thing seems ! 
It reminds me of a picture I once saw of the bright, 
bright path that leads to heaven." Remaining for 
some time in a silent and thoughtful position, she was 
asked why she said so little to her afflicted friends 
around her. She replied, " I feel that I have been visit- 
ed by angels, and I long to be away with them." When 
the last sands in the glass of life were running, a rela- 
tive whispered in her ear, " This is death ; the strug- 
gle will soon be over." She replied, with a smile 
lighting up all her countenance, " G-od is good ;" and 
in a few moments afterward her spirit returned unto 
Grod who gave it. Her life was a brief one ; it had 
not quite reached fifteen years, but she attained the 
great object of life, and its end was glorious. No more 
lovely life or death have I ever witnessed. 

How manifold and important the lessons of this nar- 
rative ! 

Does it not illustrate the importance of ministers 
retaining the good old plan of family visitation in the 
Churches ? In the pamly days of the Church, the 
pastor, with his elder, regularly visited the families of 
his charge. He conversed personally with every adult ; 
he catechised the children — he prayed with them. 
Thus, while not failing in his duties in the pulpit, he 
carried the Gospel from house to house. Not a family 
was overlooked — not a person, young or old, was neg- 
lected. A personal appeal was made to every indi- 
vidual, and a bond of union, which death only could 



LAURAANN. 83 



Important duty. Family religion. Catechising. 

sever, united pastor and people; and a piety, less 
showy than in our day, but far more solid and consist- 
ent, was the result. To that family visit, under God, 
we trace the conversion of the parents of Laura Ann, 
and subsequently her own brief but bright life and 
happy death. Family visitation is a most laborious, 
but a most important part of a pastor's duty ; in the 
neglect of it, we know not how any man can feed the 
flock of God. 

Does it not illustrate the importance of the religious 
instruction of the young? Laura Ann, from child- 
hood, knew the Holy Scriptures, and was instructed 
in the Shorter Catechism ; not in a forced, but entirely 
simple and natural way, she was accustomed to rehg- 
ious conversation. These things made deep and early 
impressions, and, through the agency of the Spirit, re- 
sulted in her early conversion. Oh, how important the 
precept, " Train up," or, as it is in the margin, '' Cat- 
echise a child in the way he should go." The lovely 
life and happy death of Laura Ann were intimately 
connected with her domestic religious instruction. 
When family religion is rightly maintained in every 
Christian family, it will be scarcely second to the min- 
istry in its influence in extending the dominion of 
Christ in our world. 

To those in youthful years, does it not illustrate the 
importance of the precept, "Remember now thy Crea- 
tor in the days of thy youth?" While the dew of her 
youth was sparkling upon her green leaf, the hand of 
Death was laid upon Laura Ann. Her sun set before 
it reached its noon; but it rose in another sphere, 



84 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Youthful piety. 

never again to set, where it will shine with unsullied 
brightness forever and ever. 

" Grace is a plant, where'er it grows, 
Of pure and heavenly root. 
But fairest in the youngest shows, 
And yields the sweetest fruit." 



THE SCENE IN A GRAVE-YARD. 85 

Mother's impress. Consumption. All avenues closed. 



THE SCENE m A GRAVE-YARD. 

I WAS asked to visit a young man who was very- 
sick. I was soon at his bedside. Although hitherto 
careless about his salvation, I learned that he was the 
son of a praying mother, who had passed into the skies, 
and who had left her impress upon the hearts of her 
children. This inspired me with hope, as it gave me 
a strong hold on the sympathies and conscience of the 
dying youth before me. 

His disease was consumption — the most deceptive 
of diseases — ■ which, while it is undermining the cit- 
adel of Hfe, unfurls the flag of hope from its summit. 
For months he had struggled against its gradual and 
stealthy advances, but with wasted energies he now 
lay gasping for breath before me. I spoke to him of 
death, but he hoped soon to be well again. I told him 
of the uncertainty of life, even as to those free from 
disease ; he replied that he had been sick before, and 
that his youth was in his favor. I spoke to him of 
the need of preparation to meet death at every mo- 
ment of his being ; he said he hoped his time would 
come yet. And in this way he closed every avenue 
of access that I sought to open to his heart. 

I finally ventured to ask him if he remembered any 
thing of his sainted mother. His eyes soon filled, and 
after a protracted pause, he replied, '' Oh yes." I asked 



86 PARISH PENCI LINGS. 

A mother's memory. Last visit. A younger listener. 

him if she ever prayed for him. " Often," was his 
answer, and with deep emotion. I then stated to him 
the privilege of being the son of a sainted mother, the 
blessing of having her yet unanswered prayers on rec- 
ord in heaven for him, and the way of salvation through 
a Savior. His attention was awakened; and after 
committing him in prayer to the Lord, I withdrew,, 
deeply impressed with the whole scene. 

My visits were repeated at brief intervals for some 
months, with varying hopes in reference to his trusting 
on Christ for salvation. On my last visit to him, I 
found him sitting by a fire in early summer, and wet 
with perspiration through the difficulty of breathing. 
I plainly saw that his last sands were running in the 
glass of life. I again placed Christ before him in the 
freeness and fullness of his salvation ; I dwelt on the 
blessed text, '' Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in 
no wise cast out ;" and having fully explained that 
whenever whatsoever sinner went to Christ, he would 
find gracious acceptance, I urged him, like the dying 
malefactor, to go in the very extremity of life, and 
told him that heaven would be his. Feeling it was 
my last time, I sought to do all my duty. 

There sat in the room during this and previous vis- 
its a younger brother, who heard, with attention, all 
that was said ; and, as I had an opportunity, I strove 
to impress him with the importance of seeking God in 
the days of health and of youth, without yet feeling 
that any deep emotion existed, save that of sympathy 
with his dying brother. 

Not long after my visit, as I predicted to his friends. 



THE SCENE IN A GRAVE-YARD., 87 

The funeral day. Thoughts and tombs. Disturbed. 

this young man died. The day of his funeral was one 
of brilhancy and beauty ; the trees were in their full 
verdure, and nature, animate and inanimate, seemed 
full of life ; and a funeral procession on such a day 
was in utter and doleful contrast with the appearance 
of the heavens above and of the earth beneath. I 
lingered in the grave-yard after the burial,, while the 
mourners went about the streets. Fatigued and op-^ 
pressed by the heat, and by the scenes through which 
I had passed, I took my seat on a marble slab which 
surmounted, in table form, the grave of a once-honored 
citizen ; and there, shielded from the sun by an um- 
brella, I sat musing on future events. My thoughts 
ran onward to the judgment, and I imagined myself 
amid the scenes of that day of wonders. I heard the 
sound of the trumpet ; I saw the graves opening ; I 
saw the many beloved Mends that I had committed to 
the dust all around me^ rising — ^the corruptible putting 
on incorruption, and the mortal putting on immortal- 
ity. And while pondering who of these ascending 
ones would take their places on the right, and who on 
the left hand of the Judge, I heard a movement behind 
me. Feeling that I was alone, I was startled with the 
noise ; and on turning to see its cause, the brother of 
the deceased young man, who had been repeatedly a 
witness of my solemn interviews with him, stood be- 
fore me. His whole aspect and demeanor were em- 
phatically solemn ; they spoke the feelings that were 
heaving within him. " Do you," said I, in a tone 
modulated into sympathy with his appearance, '' do 
you want any thing of me ?" He was silent. I waited 



88 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The great question. Conversation. Confession. 

for an answer, determined that he should break the 
silence. " I have come," said he, after a long pause, 
*Ho ask you, What shall I do to be saved?" Never 
was that question propounded under circumstances 
more deeply affecting. There was the fresh clay un- 
der which the remains of his brother were just laid, 
and there by its side was the green grave of his sainted 
mother, and all around us and beneath us were the 
graves of departed generations. I gave him a seat by 
my side ; and after explaining to him how Jesus was 
the resurrection and the life, I set myself deliberately 
to work to answer his question. 

Fearing that his feelings were the result of sorrow 
and affliction because of the death of his brother, and 
knowing how little permanence such feelings usually 
possess, I sought to find the cause of his deep serious- 
ness, when the following conversation ensued : 

" You ask what you shall do to be saved. How 
long have you felt that you are a lost sinner ?" 

" For several months past." 

" Then your serious feelings have not been caused 
by the death of your brother solely ?" 

" No ; I have felt for months that I am a sinner 
against God, that I deserve eternal death, and that, 
were I to die in the place of my brother, where God 
and Christ is I never could go. I have witnessed 
some of your visits to my brother, and they have 
tended much to produce the state of feeling which now 
oppresses me." 

Being satisfied that his feelings had a deeper basis 
than mere sympathy, I explained to him the nature 



THE SCENE IN A GRAVE-YARD. 89 

Not the sorrow of the world. Faith. Hoped for the best. 

of sin as committed against Grod, and how the punish- 
ment revealed against sin was its just deserts, to all 
which he gave an intelligent and direct assent. I 
thought I saw that his was not the sorrow of the 
world which worketh death. 

Having satisfied myself on this fundamental point, 
I sought' next to explain to him Grod's great remedy 
for sin, as embodied in that simple and intelligible text, 
" He that belie veth in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be 
saved." Placing myself in " Christ's stead," I repeated 
the words, " Come unto me, all ye that are weary and 
heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 

" But what," said he, " is it to come ?" 

" To come," said I, "is to believe — to act faith in 
Christ." 

" But what," said he, in an anxious tone, '' is faith ?" 

I replied that " faith is believing what Grod has said, 
and doing what Grod commands." And in various 
ways, both from Scripture and reason, I sought to ex- 
plain the matter to him. 

We walked out of the grave-yard together, and as 
we separated at its gate, I entreated him to cherish the 
strivings of the Spirit, and warned him against the ef- 
fects of quenching them. But while he promised well, 
knowing the deceitfulness of the heart, and how like 
unto the morning cloud and the early dew are the im- 
pressions made by afflictive providences, my fears sur- 
passed my hopes. Yet I hoped for the best, and prayed 
for his conversion. 

On the succeeding Sabbath he was an earnest hear- 
er of the Grospel. He took his seat in my weekly con- 



9Q PARISH PENCILING S. 

Hoped and confessed. Life and death. Sad tendency, 

ference. Soon lie saw that Jesus came to save sinners ; 
that he was a sinner, and that Jesus came to save 
him. He trusted and rejoiced. Promptly, yet quiet- 
ly, he took his place among the followers of Christ. 
Since then, years have passed away, through which he 
lived unto the Lord. Consumption — ^the disease which 
desolated his family — laid its hand upon him ; and 
when the last sands in the glass of his life were run- 
ning, he spoke of the scene in the grave-yard with in- 
tense interest. It was amid the graves of the dead 
he was led first to indulge the Christian hope of eternal 
life ; and when the darkness of the valley of death was 
collecting around him, that hope was as bright as the 
sun at high noon. With faltering accents he could 
say, 

" Amid the darkness and the deeps. 

Thou art my comfort, thou my stay ; 
Thy staff supports my feeble steps, 
Thy rod directs my doubtful way." 

The lessons of this narrative are many and impor- 
tant. 

1. It teaches us the sad tendency of the unrenewed 
heart to postpone preparation for death. When con- 
fessing that preparation is essential and necessary, the 
carnal heart will frame any excuse to postpone it, and 
will resist any argument which urges to the making 
of it now. We have heard the man of fourscore and 
ten years saying, with a tremulous and almost inaudi- 
ble voice, '' There is time enough yet." And in the 
case of this sick young man, when his lungs were so 
far gone as to render breathing only possible ; when 
the labor of breathing was so great as to convert his 



THE SCENE IN A GRAVE-YARD. 91 

The web of hope. The great slayer. Wayside seed. 

whole body into a fountain of tears ; when vitaHty had 
commenced its retreat from the extremities, and when 
the silver cords were loosing in every direction, even 
then was he weaving the web of hope as to the future ! 
Oh, reader, if there is any evil tendency of your heart 
which should create more alarm than another, it is the 
tendency to postpone preparation for death to an un- 
certain future. You are not so much in danger from 
infidelity, crimson sins, or open resistance to the au- 
thority of Grod, as you are from procrastination. While 
other sins have slain their thousands, this has slain its 
tens of thousands. If the Spirit is now striving, now 
is your accepted time ; and the days of sickness or of 
old age are no better adapted to secure the great end 
of life than they are to secure any of its less important 
ends. 

2. It teaches us that although we may fail in doing 
the direct good which we honestly seek, we may be 
doing a great good indirectly. I sought with earnest- 
ness the salvation of that young man when the vulture 
Consumption was preying on his vitals. And while 
we can not look behind the curtain which screens 
eternal things from our view, or know what God's grace 
and power may effect in the dying hour, yet, as he 
passed behind that curtain, he left not the evidences 
of true faith which we all desired. But what was 
said to him, perhaps in vain, was not lost upon his 
younger and listening brother. Although the seed fell 
by the way-side, the ground was prepared for its recep- 
tion. If my visits were lost upon the dying, they were 
blessed to the living ; and if the good directly sought 



92 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Some saved. Sowing beside all waters. 

was not obtained, perhaps a greater good was indirectly 
effected. Our ineffective efforts to save some may he 
blessed to the salvation of others for whom they were 
not directly intended. The life-boat may bring back 
others safely to the shore, although the waves may be 
made the winding-sheet of the friend for whose rescue 
it was sent out amid the raging billows. 

3. It teaches us to preach the G-ospel every where. 
We must sow our seed beside all waters, not knowing 
which shall prosper, this or that ; nor must we reserve 
our pungent appeals for the crowded church or for the 
large assembly. Never are appeals made more suc- 
cessfully than to sinners alone. Years have passed 
since the occurrence of that scene in the grave-yard, 
but its memories are yet fresh ; nor do I remember 
ever having preached the Grospel with more unction, 
spirit, directness, or effect, than when that young man 
was my only auditor, and the tombstone my pulpit. 
His life and death gave proof that the seed fell in good 
ground, and its ripe fruits have been collected into the 
garner. 



HELENA, THE MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE. 93 

Constantine. His history. Galerius. 



HELENA, THE MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE.* 

Constantine, surnamed the Great, holds a conspic- 
uous place among the heroes of history. The son of 
Constantius Chlorus, he was horn, as is supposed, in 
Nissa, in the year 272. Trained to arms from his 
youth, he served with high distinction in the Persian 
war under Galerius. Fearing for his personal safety 
because of the jealousy of Galerius, he fled to Gaul 
just in time to join the army of his father in his ex- 
pedition against the Picts in Britain, when he was 
ahout thirty-four years of age. Chlorus died in 306, 
and his son immediately asserted his claim to a share 
of the empire. This claim was reluctantly acknowl- 
edged by Galerius, and with the title of Caesar he be- 
came master of the country beyond the Alps. He took 
up his residence in Treves, and governed his people 
with justice and moderation — loved by his subjects 
and feared by his enemies. Soon, however, he became 
involved in wars with rival emperors, in all of which 
his arms were victorious ; and by the decisive victory 
over Maxentius at Saxa E-ubra, near Rome, he became 
sole master of the West in the year 312. 

Soon after this, important events took place in the 
East. On the death of the tyrant Galerius in 311, 
Licinius and Maximinus divided his empire between 
* Written for Appleton's ** Women of Ancient Christianity." 



94 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Licinius. Constantinople chosen. Open questions. 

them. Their clashing interests soon led them to war^ 
in which Maximinus was defeated. The numher of 
emperors was thus reduced to two, Licinius in the 
East, and Constantine in the "West. Between these 
also a war commenced, which ended in the complete 
defeat of Licinius in the two great battles of Adrianople 
and Chalcedon, and in his entire surrender on the con- 
dition that his life should be spared. Thus Constan- 
tine became the sole master of the empire, when he 
transferred the seat of his government to Byzantium, 
which he called after his own name, Constantinople, 
or the city of Constantine. Here he reigned in peace 
until his death, which took place in 337. 

The character of this great man is very variously 
estimated by historians. If some would make him a 
great saint, others would make him a great sinner. 
The miraculous interposition of a cross in the air in 
his behalf, claimed by some, others would convert into 
an evidence that he was an impostor. Whether he 
was a Christian or a heathen, a good man or a bad 
one — whether his so-called conversion was an injury 
or, a benefit to the Church, are yet open questions, and 
are now no nearer settlement than they were hundreds 
of years ago. Yet the chivalry of his youth-— his 
promptness in assuming the purple as soon as it fell 
from the shoulders of his royal father — his victories 
over Maxentius — his moderation and justice in the 
West — his successful wars with Licinius — his going 
up, amid so many difficulties, to be the sole master of 
the Roman world — ^his transference of the seat of em- 
pire from the West to the East — his founding of a 



J 



HELENA, THE MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE. 95 

" The Great." Who his mother I Her divorce- 

great city» and locating it with so mnch sagacity, and, 
above all, his support of the religion of Christ by con- 
verting the state from being its persecutor to its patron, 
give him a fair title to be called "the Great, " a term 
which all Christian history has cheerfully yielded to 
him. 

The fame of the man has rendered posterity atten- 
tive to the most minute circumstances of his life, and 
especially to those which entered into the formation of 
his character. And as the conduct of a mother is in- 
fluential, to a proverb, in the formation of the charac- 
ter of her children, the question arises, Who was the 
mother of Constantine, and what was her manner of 
life? 

On these questions we also find the testimony of 
history at variance. It would seem as if she were a 
Briton by birth ; but whether she was the daughter of 
King Coel, "who first built walls around the city of 
Colchester," or of an innkeeper, is not determined. 
Butler asserts her royal, and Gribbon her plebeian de- 
scent. She became the wife of Constantius while yet 
only a private offijcer in the army, and the mother of 
Constantine. "When her son was about eighteen years 
of age, his father was promoted to the rank of Csesar, 
which fortunate event was attended with her divorce, 
in order to make way for an imperial alliance with 
Theodora, the step-child of Maximianus. By this event 
Helen and her son fell into a state of disgrace and hu-^ 
mihation, from which they subsequently arose by the 
prudence, the justice, the ambition, and the military 
prowess of Constantine. 



96 PARISH PENCILING S. 

When converted. The cross in the air. The age. 

When or by what means she became a convert 
to the Christian faith is utterly uncertain. If some 
would represent her, in her state of divorce, as training 
up her son in the ways of religion with the resignation 
of a Christian matron, others would represent her as a 
pagan until after the vision or the dream of seeing a 
cross in the air, which led to the so-called conversion 
of Constantine. We believe the truth in the case to be, 
that while her son played a double part, to conciliate 
the Christian and pagan parties in the state, favoring 
less and less the pagan, and more and more the Chris- 
tian, until just previous to his death he submitted to 
the rite of baptism, at an advanced period of her life 
Helen became a devout Christian, and, in the way and 
manner of her age and country, a devotee to the cause 
which she espoused. 

Hers was an age when the tendency was to the out- 
ward in the spirit of religion. The sensuous had al- 
ready made vast encroachments on the spiritual ; and 
the devotion claimed by G-od, and which should be 
given to the subduing of all the powers and affections 
to the obedience of Christ, was consecrated to pilgrim- 
ages to sacred places, to the collection of relics, and to 
the erection and the adorning of churches. From all 
portions of the earth, men flocked to the places where 
Christ was born, suffered, and was buried ; princes 
made pilgrimages to the tombs of apostles and mar- 
tyrs ; pilgrims even penetrated Arabia to see the dung- 
heap and to kiss the earth on which Job had suffered 
with so much resignation. Helen fully yielded herself 
to this spirit of her times, and, by her high example 



HELENA, THE MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE. 97 

A devotee. Her life. Our conclusion. 

and patronage, greatly promoted it. Honored by her 
son, and the wealth of the empire placed at her com- 
mand, she devoted her rank and treasures to religious 
services. Assuming the plainest dress, she mixed with 
the people, was punctual in all her duties, distributed 
to the needy of her abundance, erected churches, and 
contributed largely to enrich and adorn them. When 
her son became master of the East, as of the West, by 
the conquest of Licinius, she repaired to Jerusalem, 
though then far advanced in life, and, as is said, dis- 
covered the true cross on which the Redeemer was 
crucified, laid the foundations of the Church on the hill 
of Calvary, and manifested her zeal for religion by the 
most princely benefactions. While traveling with 
royal pomp throughout the East, she yet displayed 
great condescension. She was kind and affable to all. 
She waited, as a servant, at the tables of the poor. The 
soldiers, the poor, the condemned, were every where the 
objects of her regard. She returned to Rome, where 
she lived in the constant performance of acts of piety 
and charity until her death, which occurred in August, 
328 ; and her ashes are now said to be kept in a rich 
shrine of porphyry under the high altar of the Church 
of Ara Coeli in Rome. 

Passing over the monkish legends, mainly the pro- 
ductions of the Dark Ages, which narrate her finding 
of the true cross, the miracle which proved its truth, 
the wonders wrought by her intercession, which would 
seem to render her a fictitious personage, we are forced 
to the conclusion that Helena was a devoted Christian 
woman. What seems in her character more sensuous 

E 



98 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Legend writers. A bright star. 

than spiritual was the result of the tendency of her 
age ; and what seems in that character disjointed, and 
of monstrous proportions, and incredible, we must at- 
tribute to the imagination of those writers of legends 
who sought to impress the living by the most unnat- 
ural and incredible narratives of the dead. Having 
embraced Christianity late in life, she sought to re- 
trieve the many years spent in darkness and sin by a 
consecration of her time, her station, her wealth to the 
promotion of religion ; and her name is embalmed by 
the entire Church of Grod, and is worthy of a place 
among those who have fought the good fight of faith, 
and laid hold of eternal life. The mother of Constan- 
tino is a bright star in that bright galaxy formed by 
the illustrious women of early Christianity, and whose 
characters should be held up to every age for the imi- 
tation of their sex. 



THE FUNERAL AT SEA. 99 

The ship. A passenger. Disappointed hopes. 



THE FUNERAL AT SEA. 

The noble packet ship in which we were to cross the 
Atlantic was at anchor in the East River. A strong 
northeast storm had prevented her from sailing on her 
appointed day, and there she lay, fully equipped for her 
voyage, waiting favorable winds. The day opened 
with a brilliant sky and a fine northwester, and at 
nine in the morning, the passengers, with their friends, 
were on the deck, when the anchor was heaved, and 
we commenced our voyage. As we passed down the 
magnificent bay of New York, I observed among our 
company a young man of foreign appearance, with 
sallow complexion, sunken eye, and interesting mien. 
There was in company with him a young female, who 
manifested in him the deepest interest, and who only 
left his side when all friends were ordered into the 
steamer which had taken us to the Hook. Their part- 
ing was most affecting and tender. The young man 
was a native of Ireland, and, on the advice of physi- 
cians, was returning there, to seek, in his native air, a 
remedy for a deep-seated consumption. A widowed 
mother was expecting his return home ; and the heart 
of his female friend, on which his image was impress- 
ed, was throbbing with anxiety for his return. Both 
were to be disappointed. 

He had taken his passage in the second cabin, and, 



100 PARISH PENCILING S. 

His cabin. The first visit. Instructed. 

as the winds and waves of the Atlantic soon drove us 
all to our sick-berths, I had lost sight of him for many 
days, and even his first appearance on shipboard pass- 
ed away from my memory. When our voyage was 
about half made, a female, to whom I v/as a stranger, 
informed me that a young man in her cabin was very 
sick, and greatly needed religious instruction. I sent 
to ask if a visit from me would be agreeable ; and be- 
ing informed that it would be, I hastened to his berth. 
His cabin was filthy, and filled with impure air ; and 
having not a relative or acquaintance on board, his 
person, up to this time, was not sufficiently cared for. 
My interview with him was deeply affecting. He was 
a child of Protestant parents. On coming to the United 
States, he had given up all regard for religious things, 
and lived only for pleasure and the world. A cold had 
grown into a consumption, which was now near its 
closing act ; and as tenderly as faithfulness would per- 
mit, I suggested that, should our voyage be protracted, 
as there was danger, he might not live to reach his 
home. The idea struck him with force, and he turned 
away and wept. On recovering himself, I asked him 
as to his preparations for death. The answer was full 
proof of the darkness of his mind as to spiritual things. 
" "Why," said he, " should I fear to die ; as I have never 
done any thing wrong ?" I saw at once the need of a 
protracted visit, and taking my seat on a greasy trunk 
by his side, I sought to instruct him into the way of 
the Lord. I told him of our fall — of our native deprav- 
ity — of the great truth that we are all sinners, and un- 
der the sentence of the law, which is death. I then 



THE FUNERAL AT SEA. 101 

The effect. Keeping Easter. Sudden call. 

sought by various simple illustrations to fix on his mind 
a sense of his own sinfulness. Having obtained a no 
very hearty assent to my statements, I then sought to 
place Christ before him as the way of escape for sin- 
ners, as the only way to heaven; and having placed 
the G-ospel way of salvation fully before him, surround- 
ed by his fellow-passengers in the same cabin, I com- 
mitted him to Grod in prayer, and especially implored 
that the ocean might not be made his grave. The ef- 
fect upon him I could not well see, but upon others it 
was deeply solemn. I promised to visit him again. 

This visit was early in the week. On the day fol- 
lowing he greatly revived, and played cards. The suc- 
ceeding Sabbath was to be Easter Sunday, and after 
the manner of those who observe such times and sea- 
sons, he commenced his preparations to keep it. "With 
him and others it was to be a jolly day. I sent kind 
inquiries from day to day as to his health, and asked 
for another interview, but it was declined for the pres- 
ent. On Saturday I learned he was quite well, and 
that he hoped to be on deck on Sunday. There was a 
change in the weather toward the close of the day ; 
the wind increased, and the atmosphere became quite 
damp. A little after midnight I was called from my 
berth to do what I could for the dying man. I crowd- 
ed my way, half dressed, to his berth, where he lay 
panting away his life. The glaze of death was already 
in his eyes — ^the sweat of death was on all his mem- 
bers, and his every sense was closed. He was beyond 
all aid from man. The scene was deeply affecting. 
There, on the bosom of the wide Atlantic, at midnight, 



102 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The scene. Midnight sermon. Superstition. 

the winds high, and the billows raging, lay a man, sur- 
rounded only "by strangers, in the last moments of his 
existence ! Nor were these strangers neglectful of 
him. "Women were there, who, with maternal and 
sisterly solicitude, ministered to his wants, and wept 
over his sufferings ; and feehng that I could do the 
dying man no good, I addressed myself to the living. 
The profane swearer' — ^the card-player — the papist — 
the infidel were there. But death has power to silence 
all objections, and to open all ears to serious instruc- 
tions. I pointed them to the end of all flesh, and to 
the importance of preparation for it, and we then went 
together to the throne of Grod to ask for grace for the 
dying and the living ; and not knowing the hour at 
which the struggle would close, I retired to my berth, 
not to sleep, but to ponder the scene I had just wit- 
nessed, one of the most solemn I ever beheld. At the 
dawn of morning it was announced in my state-room 
that he was no more. 

Knowing something as to the superstition of sailors 
a bout the continuance of a dead body on board, I made 
inquiry as to his burial. It was ordered for an early 
hour, and before breakfast. I asked the captain to 
defer it until after breakfast, that we might, with all 
the passengers and crew, have a religious service. He 
consented. At the hour appointed, the corpse was 
brought on deck, sewed up in sail-cloth, with a weight 
attached to its feet, and laid upon a plank, one end of 
which extended over the side of the ship, and the other 
rested on the long-boat near the mainmast, thus form- 
ing an inclined plane. The flag, with its stars and 



THE FUNERAL AT SEA. 103 

Funeral sermon. The burial. Ocean grave. 

stripes, covered the capstan, on which lay a Bible. 
The passengers and crew were all assembled. There 
were veteran tars and veteran sinners, but all were 
affected; there were Protestants and papists, but all 
heard with equal interest. I preached from the text, 
"And the sea gave up the dead which were in it;" 
and as the great truths pertaining to the resurrection 
were unfolded, and as the picture was drawn of the 
wide sea by which we w^ere surrounded, and whose 
waves were singing a death-dirge around us, giving 
tip all its dead, a solemn stillness pervaded the mixed 
congregation. The order was now given to bury the 
dead, when two sailors gently raised the end of the 
plank which rested on the long-boat, and the corpse 
slid into its ocean grave ! One plunge, and all was 
over ! It sank to rise no more until the sea gives up 
its dead ; and while it makes but little difference 
where the body is laid, if the spirit is prepared for its 
home in the skies, yet there is something forbidding 
in a burial at sea, which makes it not to be desired. 
Death at sea is usually not expected there ; friends 
are generally absent ; it is away from the sepulchres of 
bur fathers. No mother's tears can bedew our graves ; 
ho stone can tell where our dust reposes ; no hand of 
affection can plant the yew, the cypress, or the weep- 
ing-willow at our head ; no green grass in the spring, 
an emblem of the resurrection, will ever cover our nar- 
row house. Our bones may rest as quietly as on land 
amid the pearls and corals of the ocean, but the wide, 
wild waste above has no attraction. And as the noise 
of that one plunge sounded through the ship, no doubt 
the prayer of my lips was the echo of the sentiment 



104 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A prayer. Disappointments. The heart of woman. 

of all hearts, " Lord, if consistent with thy most holy- 
will, let none of my descendants, to the remotest gen- 
eration, find their grave in the ocean." 

This affecting incident suggested many thoughts 
which I sought to improve to myself and others during 
the remainder of our voyage. 

How varied the disappointments caused by death ! 
In this case, the expectations of a mother as to the re- 
turn of her son, and of a female as to the return of a 
brother or lover, were dashed. The idol of their hearts 
found an unexpected grave amid the billows of the 
Atlantic ! How many such disappointments is death 
daily making ! How the pillars of our houses are fall- 
ing when apparently strongest ! how the lights of our 
dwelhngs are going out when shining brightest ! how 
the icy fingers of Death tear in pieces the web of our 
hope when almost woven! how often it dashes from 
our hand the cup of blessing as we are raising it to 
our lips ! and yet how rarely we take these disappoint- 
ments into our calculations as to the continuance of 
our earthly comforts ! 

How tender and sympathizing the heart of woman ! 
This young man was an utter stranger to all on board 
the ship ; his conduct was not such as to win the re- 
gards of the females in the cabin with him ; and yet, 
when he became unable to help himself, although often 
grieved by his profanity, they became to him angels 
of mercy. "With a solicitude which increased with the 
progress of his disease, they watched over him, moist- 
ening his parched lips, wiping his pallid brow, rubbing 
into warmth his chilled extremities, and dividing with 
him their own little comforts ; and when committed to 



THE FUNERAL AT SEA. 105 

The cup sweetened. Multitudes in ocean graves. 

the waves, there was not a dry eye among them all ! 
How like unto the cup put into the hands of the suf- 
fering Savior would be the cup of life, were it not for 
the sweet ingredients infused into it by the kind hand 
of virtuous woman ! 

How intensely interesting will be the scene present- 
ed by the sea on the sound of the resurrection trum- 
pet ! What multitudes lie beneath its waves ! On 
its bosom battles have been fought, and lost, and won ; 
navies have been wrecked, ships have foundered, and 
by storm, accident, disease, millions have there found 
a grave. It may be that the ocean covers the antedi- 
luvian world, and that the millions who perished in the 
Deluge repose beneath its waves ; and the dead there, 
small and great, shall rise on the sound of the trum- 
pet ! Not one shall be missing from the vast assem- 
bly that will crowd around the great white throne! 
And what a scene will the sea present when, in answer 
to the trumpet sounding over it, it shall give up its 
dead ! when it shall lift up its waves on high, that 
those rising from its fathomless depths may pass from 
their snowy summit into the presence of the Judge ! 

How needful a constant preparation for death ! God 
is the Grod of the sea as of the dry land ; they equally 
lie within the kingdom of his providence, and we are 
equally exposed to death on the one as on the other. 
Hence the need of a constant preparation for it. We 
know not what a day may bring forth. At the very 
hour when this young man expected to be on deck, 
keeping Easter with his jolly companions, the waves 
of the Atlantic were made his winding-sheet ! 

E 2 



106 PARISH PENCILING S. 



A character. 



THE LAST GAME OF CARDS. 

On my first appearance among my people as their 
pastor, my attention was strongly arrested by the ap- 
pearance of one of my hearers. He was an aged man, 
and his whole exterior evinced that, although moving 
in the more humble walks of life, he was a charac- 
ter. Although afflicted with the shaking palsy, his step 
was firm, and, under the circumstances, quick ; his 
countenance was marked, and, although shaded by a 
massive pair of spectacles, was full of emotion. With 
his head slightly inclined, he urged his way through 
the crowded aisle to a pew in front of the pulpit, where 
he reverently took his seat, and by silent supplication 
prepared himself for the worship of God ; and what- 
ever might be the state of the weather, there he sat on 
each returning Sabbath, as long as his health permit- 
ted, and with the regularity of the sun ; and his whole 
appearance evinced that he was a deeply interested 
worshiper. His apparent anxiety to hear was greatly 
increased by a partial deafness ; and when the love of 
Christ was the theme of discourse, the big spectacles 
were often removed that he might wipe away the fall- 
ing tear. 

I felt anxious to know something about the history 
of a man whose appearance thus strongly arrested my 
attention. As I was a new pastor, he was frank, but 



THE LAST GAME OF CARDS. 107 



His history. Morals. 



somewhat reserved in our first interview ; but his con- 
fidence increased with our acquaintance, and soon he 
unbosomed to me his whole heart ; and the following is, 
in brief, his narrative, as more than once detailed to 
me by himself: 

He was a youth at the commencement of the war 
of the Revolution, and not long after its commence- 
ment, enlisted in the regular army. He fought nobly 
in many of its battles, and at the close of the war re- 
turned to private life, a thorough adept in almost all 
the vices of the camp. He drank, swore, and gambled, 
until he became a proverb for these vices. Thus, with 
a family growing up around him, he pursued his me- 
chanical profession in a small way, until old age had 
commenced its encroachments upon him. Notwith- 
standing his vices, his frank, manly, and decided char- 
acter always obtained for him respect. His sons grew 
up in imitation of the father's example, and in the prac- 
tice of his vices; and many a night did they spend, 
corrupting one another at the bottle, and cheating one 
another at the card-table, amid mutual recriminations 
when they lost or won. 

In the winter of 1807 there occurred a storm, w^hich, 
commencing early in the afternoon, raged with great 
violence through the night. As there was no exit from 
the house, the father invited the son to the card-table. 
Bets were made ; and seeing that the son was gaining 
the advantage, the father ordered the brandy bottle, 
hoping that by getting his son drunk he might extin- 
guish his wits, and thus come off the winner. For 
this purpose, while pouring out for his son, he abstained 



108 PARISH PENCI LINGS. 

Unnatural fight. Reflections. Conviction. 

himself. In the proportion the son drank, he became 
the loser ; and, enraged by brandy and his losses, he 
charged his father with cheating him. A fight ensued, 
in which the father was the victor ; and after first 
making him drunk, then winning his money, and then 
severely beating him, he shut up his son in his bed- 
room. 

From the room where that card-table was spread, a 
feeble light might be seen through the pelting of the 
storm, sending out its sickly rays through the whole 
night upon the darkness of the tempest. Having lock- 
ed up his drunken and beaten son, the father returned 
to the fire to prepare for his own retirement to rest. 
And very soon the tempest without was but a faint 
emblem of that which raged in his own bosom. The 
question arose, What have I been doing ? That sug- 
gested another, and another, and another, until the 
enormity of his conduct was opened in all its crimson 
folds before him. He saw his vile conduct as a parent 
in corrupting his own son — teaching him to swear, to 
drink, to gamble — and in beating him for conduct in- 
duced by the poisoned cup which, with his own hand, 
he put to his lips. His noble soul awoke as from a 
dream, and he detested it all. His conduct, in its sin- 
fulness toward Grod, rose up before him, and he ab- 
horred it. He looked forward to the judgment bar, 
where a strict account should be rendered for his every 
act, and the terrors of death got hold of him. "When 
he thought of Grod, he trembled. His neglected Bible 
was taken down and read. The storm without seem- 
ed to increase that which was raging in his soul, and 



THE LAST GAME OF CARDS. 109 

Goes to his pastor. Converted. Death. 

he read, and wept, and prayed, until the morning light. 
It was his last night at the card-table. 

He was not a man to conceal his true feelings. He 
had been too often at the cannon's mouth and in the 
deadly breach to fear any body; and the man who 
truly fears Grod fears nothing else. A little refreshing 
from the Lord was at this time enjoyed ; and in the 
morning, crushed and broken in spirit, he went to the 
minister to ask what he should do to be saved. He 
was almost received as was Saul when he went up 
from Damascus to Jerusalem, and " essayed to join 
himself to the disciples." But, after telling his story, 
it was seen that the direct hand of Grod was in the 
matter, and that he was a subject of the convictions 
of the Holy Grhost. He was directed into the way of 
salvation. He was taught, in its true and full sense, 
that " whosoever belie veth in the Lord Jesus Christ 
shall be saved," and that his sins of crimson dye, of 
themselves, were no obstruction to his salvation. And 
after a few days spent as if in the very belly of hell, he 
found joy in believing. He soon professed his faith in 
Christ, and for thirty years, without turning to the 
right hand or to the left, he followed Christ in his or- 
dinances and commandments, and went down to the 
grave without a spot or blemish on his Christian char- 
acter. Never did I find him in any other frame than 
rejoicing in love of Christ — than resting only on his 
righteousness for everlasting life. And as he had often 
met the enemies of his country, so he met the last ene- 
my, Death, without a fear, longing to depart, and to be 
with Christ, which is far better. 



110 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The son. Bitter reflection. Various agencies. 

But the question will arise, "What became of that 
son, with whom, on that stormy night, he played cards, 
and had such a disgraceful fight ? He was the hane 
and the sorrow of his father's life. He awoke in the 
morning to curse his father, and to pursue the evil of 
his ways. The tears, the confessions, the entreaties 
of a penitent parent made on him no impression. He 
lived forgetful of God, an inveterate drunkard, a bur- 
den to the community, and died unwept and unre- 
garded ; and often have we seen the father's soul 
wrung with anguish under the bitter reflection that 
the seeds which were bearing fruit unto death in the 
heart of that son might have been sown there by his 
own hand. 

How plainly this narrative teaches the following 
most important lessons : 

1. That the means of God for the reclamation of 
men are exhaustless. One is convicted by a sermon, 
another by a tract, another by reading the Bible, an- 
other by the faithful admonition of a pious parent or 
friend, another by the examples of the good ; but here 
is a man who is convicted by the very enormity of his 
sins. God permitted him to follow out the promptings 
of his depraved heart until he became the corrupter of 
his own children, a depth of wickedness to which but 
few descend, and then, by his Spirit, held up that sin 
before him as an overwhelming proof of his awful de- 
pravity, and of his aggravated guilt in the sight of 
God ! "We see the hand of God as distinctly revealed 
on that stormy night in that gambling-room for the 
conviction of that wicked father, as on the plains of 



THE LAST GAME OP CARDS. Ill 

Abounding mercy. None need despair. 

Damascus in the conviction of Saul of Tarsus. And 
in view of the infinite variety of instrumentahty used 
by Grod for the conversion of men, may we not well 
exclaim, in the language of Paul, '' Oh the depth of 
the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of Grod ! 
How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways 
past finding out." 

2. It teaches us that the sins of men form no bar- 
rier to their salvation. This was a sinner of no me- 
dium character. Such a character he could not act ,* 
the strong elements of which he was formed forbade 
it. Hence he sinned with a high hand, and without 
any effort to cloak his sin. He went on until he could 
corrupt his own children, and make his son drunk, so 
that he might win his money at the card-table. And 
yet he found mercy as readily as if he had yielded an 
external obedience to the moral law from his youth 
up ! G-od, in his word, seems anxious to illustrate and 
to reiterate the truth, that though our sins be as scar- 
let, they shall be white as snow ; though they be red 
like crimson, they shall be made even as wool. Let 
the wicked, however wicked, forsake their way, and 
the unrighteous, however unrighteous, their thoughts, 
and let them return unto the Lord, and he will have 
mercy on them, and to our G-od, and he will abun- 
dantly pardon. And because it is the nature of sin to 
beget forgetfulness of the great truth, that '' whosoever 
believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved," it 
can not be too frequently or emphatically repeated in 
the hearing of all men. If Manasseh, Saul of Tar- 
sus, John Bunyan, and my aged friend, whose history 



112 PARISH PENCIIilNGS. 

Beware of sowing bad seed. Mourning in heaven. 

1 have here briefly drawn, found mercy, who need 
despair ? 

3. It teaches us to beware of influencing men to 
evil courses. This father was saved, by the grace of 
God, from his evil ways ; the dominion of sin over 
him was broken by an almighty hand, but the son 
that he enticed away from virtuous courses never re- 
turned ! The cups from which he taught him to drink 
were never abandoned ; the profanity which he learned 
in his childhood from his father's lips knew no inter- 
mission ; the father who taught the son to despise re- 
ligion was, in turn, despised by that son when he be- 
came an humble follower of Jesus Christ ! An evil 
course is like an inclined plane, one end of which is on 
earth, and the other in hell — when men enter on it, 
they usually slide down to the bottom. As he that 
turns a sinner from the error of his ways saves a soul 
from death and hides a multitude of sins, so he that 
influences a fellow-man to enter an evil course, where 
acts of sin grow into habits of sin, and where habits 
of sin give laws to his being, destroys a soul, and be- 
comes a guilty cause of its eternal sinning and eternal 
suffering ! This father and son have gone to the grave, 
and have gone each to his own place ; and if the spir- 
its of the just made perfect in glory do know the fruit 
which the seeds sown by them on earth have borne unto 
death, and do mourn over them, how will that father 
weep amid the bowers of bliss as he contemplates the 
fate of his son, an eternal outcast from the light of the 
universe forever, and mainly through his instrument- 
ality ! And many parents are leading their children 



THE LAST GAME OF CARDS. 113 

Responsibility of parents. 

into vicious courses, whose ends they themselves may 
escape, hut their children never, who have never put 
the poisoned cup to their lips, and who could never 
spend an evening with them at a card-table ! 



114 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

The court-house. A shouter. A challenge. 



THE MORMON PREACHER. 

South of our churchj and within less than one 
hundred feet of it, stands our court-house, surmounted 
by Justice balancing her scales in the air, and with a 
flight of steps ascending to its front door. As I was 
retiring from the church after the close of the service 
on a Sabbath afternoon, I heard a voice shouting from 
the court-house steps, which were surrounded by quite 
a crowd of people. On inquiry, I learned that the 
shouter was a Mormon preacher, who, in order to se- 
cure hearers, took that central stand, and at the hour 
when my people were dismissed. Of course he had 
quite an audience, and of just the sort of people which 
such a creature would attract. I heard not a word of 
him through the week, but on the following Sabbath, 
and at the same hour, the scene at the court-house 
was repeated. 

Early in the week after the second Sabbath, I re- 
ceived a letter giving me the information that a Mor- 
mon missionary was in our town, and that if I were 
wilhng to open our ^' great temple" for the purpose, he 
was ready and anxious to debate with me as to the 
superior claims of the "Latter-day Saints" above those 
of any other people claiming to be followers of Jesus 
Christ. It was just such a letter as might be expect- 
ed from such a learned pundit, and was often made 



THE MORMON PREACHER. 115 

His success. The invitation. Introduction. 

the subject of amusement to my friends and visitors. 
Of course, it was treated with the silence which it 
merited. 

I supposed that such a man could not find a solitary 
follower in such a community as ours, but I have since 
learned not to over-estimate the general sense of any 
community ; and, to my amazement, I soon heard that 
he had immersed a few persons, members of churches, 
into the faith of Joe Smith, and that he had taken 
lodgings in our town. The whole thing was far more 
amusing than alarming, as it afforded an opportunity, 
on a very reduced scale, to see who were the stable, 
rooted and grounded in the truth, and who were the 
unstable , blown about by every wind of doctrine . There 
is no absurdity so absurd as to repel all minds, and this 
ignorant fanatic had his followers. 

Meeting two young ladies in the street, they thus 
addressed me, with considerable emotion : " The Mor- 
mon preacher is in this house; he has led after him 
some of our people : will you not go in with us and 
talk with him ?" I readily accepted their invitation, 
and the more readily as they were not of my people. 
The family whose house we entered was a very plain 
and simple one, poor but honest and industrious, and 
earning their bread by their daily toil. The man was 
a cripple, and some sick persons of the family were 
turned out of the only comfortable room in the house 
to make way for the Mormon and his wife. I was in- 
troduced to him, and while he kept his seat in the cor- 
ner, I made a polite but cold recognition of the honor. 
I introduced ordinary topics to try the strength of my 



116 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Biography. No love for his trade. How converted. 

new acquaintance. When I got him warmed into a 
brisk conversational heat, and had taken his altitude, 
I made nearer approaches to my object by the line of 
biography, when the following conversation took place : 

*' Where, sir, are you originally from ?" 

'' I was born and grew up in Canada." 

'' Were your parents members of any church ?" 

" Yes ; they were Methodists." 

" Were you a member of any church before you be- 
came a Mormon preacher ?" 

" Oh yes ; I was for several years a member of the 
Methodist Church, and was a licensed exhorter among 
them." 

" Were you brought up to any trade or profession ?" 

" Yes ; I am by trade a shoemaker, and have worked 
at it many years for a living, but I had no great love 
for the business." 

" How did you ever become a Mormon from being 
a Methodist exhorter ? The change is a very great 
one, and should not be made save with deliberation 
and for good reasons." 

"Well, I fell in with a Mormon preacher, and he 
gave me the Mormon Bible, and I studied it and stud- 
ied it, until I was convinced that Joseph Smith was a 
true prophet, and that the Mormon Bible was a true 
book ; and of course I must follow my conscience and 
judgment. This is the way I became a preacher, and 
I think, if every body would study the matter as I did, 
they would believe as I do." 

''But Mormonism is not merely a new sect ; it is 
really a new dispensation, is it not ?" 



THE MORMON PREACHER. 117 

A new dispensation. Miracles. A prompt test. 

'* Oh yes, I think it is." 

" Think it is 1 hut hefore you should go round the 
country to preach its doctrines, and to invite people to 
helieve them, you should he sure ; your faith should 
be without wavering. Do you helieve yours to he a 
new dispensation or not ?" 

" Oh yes, yes ; I helieve it is." 

" Well, then, the dispensation of the Law, as given 
hy Moses, was introduced hy miracles, and so was the 
dispensation of the G-ospel hy Jesus Christ. These 
miracles were the divine testimony to the truth of the 
dispensations introduced ; for that purpose they were 
wrought and appealed to. Now, if Mormonism is a 
new dispensation, designed to supplant that of Jesus 
Christ, it must he established by miracles. "We can 
receive it on no less testimony than that of God, and 
Grod gives his testimony by miracles. Do your proph- 
ets or ministers work any ?" 

'' Oh yes, constantly ; and some of our brethren are 
great at them," he replied, without faltering or a 
blush. 

" Well, have you ever worked any, and of what 
kind ?" 

" Oh yes, several ; I have healed the sick, and cured 
the infirm." 

*' Very well, you are just the man we want here, as 
we have a good many of both classes ; and here is poor 

Mr. , who has been without the use of his limbs 

for many years ; you can try your hand on him. If 
you can cure him now, so that he can run without his 
sticks, we will all believe in you." 



118 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

Evasion. Rather subdued. Gift of tongues. 

He was silent for a moment. He looked at the 
cripple before him, and feeling that he was rather in 
a tight place, he replied, 

" But he is not a believer." 

" Well, but the subjects of miraculous power are 
not confined to believers, for Christ and his apostles 
wrought miraculous cures on many that never believ- 
ed; otherwise we must believe first, and have the 
testimony afterward." 

He looked again upon the infirm man, and thinking 
that he was a hard case, and feeling that he himself 
was in a very tight place, he replied, 

" We can work cures only on believers." 

This he uttered with rather a feeble and crestfallen 
tone, and obviously feeling that it was nearly all over 
with him. As if to relieve him a little from his di- 
lemma, but for the purpose of extending my basis for 
future action, I said, 

^' But there may be other miracles at which you are 
more expert than those of curing cripples. Are there 
any others you can work ?" 

After pausing for some moments, he replied, 

" I only cures the sick when they believe ; but my 
wife, she has the gift of tongues ; I have heard her 
many a time." 

This was a little too much, to shift the burden of 
proof upon the weaker vessel, who was not present, 
and which I resolved not to permit. 

" It is no new thing for ladies to talk with tongues, 
as the world knows ; but with what other than her own 
tongue does your wife talk ?" 



THE MORMON PREACHER. 119 

A dead pause. Impudence. Patience exhausted. 

" Surely I don't know ; I can't interpret, as I am 
not a learned man ; but I have heard her a great many 
times." 

"Did she ever speak in an unknown tongue that 
any body else could interpret ? Can she speak French 
to the French, German to the German, Irish to the 
Irish ?" 

" Not as I know on." 

" If, then, you can not understand her, and if nobody 
else can understand her, and if she can not talk so that 
any body can understand her, save in her own native 
English, how do you know — ^how can any body know 
that she has the miraculous gift of tongues ?" 

He was brought again to a dead pause ; but, sum- 
moning his impudence to his assistance, he said, 

"But I know she can speak with miraculous 
tongues, for I have very often heard her, and so have 
others." 

Having thus driven him to the point of exhaustion, 
I again turned the subject, and asked him, 

" How do you make a living?" 

" I depend upon the Lord for my daily bread. He 
takes care of me ; and when I have no money to pay 
my way, kind friends like these supply my wants." 

Forbearance was no longer a virtue. He was ob- 
viously a lazy man that hated work, and a low, vul- 
gar impostor, that took up with Mormonism to make 
a living, after, probably, he had been cast out of the 
Methodist Church for his sins. And there he had been 
for some weeks living upon this poor family, because 
one of its female members had become his follower, 



120 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A charge home. His flight. 

and occupying a room from which the sick were ex- 
cluded to make room for him and his wife of many- 
tongues. Fully believing all this, I thus addressed 
him: 

" My friend, I have no more to say to you. You 
are a lazy, indolent man — too lazy to make a lawful 
living for yourself and wife. I advise you to return to 
the bench and to the last. You are a wicked man ; 
you have laid aside the religion of God, and turned 
fanatic. You are pretending to powers which you 
can not exercise, and are thus daily guilty of the sin 
of blasphemy. You are deceiving people under a 
Mormon garb, which you simply put on as a cloak for 
your hypocrisy ; and in this way you are living upon 
poor people who have enough to do to support them- 
selves. My advice to you is to leave the town imme- 
diately, or I will send the constable after you as an 
impostor, living upon these poor people under false pre- 
tenses. You are a wicked man, for whom there is no 
hope, save in repentance for your sins and faith in the 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

He hugged the corner while, with earnestness mix- 
ed with concealed mirth, I thus denounced him. He 
was overwhelmed ; he made no attempt to reply. I 
left the house. He was soon away, with the fear of 
the constable behind him. I have never heard of him 
since. For aught I know, he may be one of the pillars 
of the infernal system of which Joe Smith was the 
head, and Brigham Young is the tail. 



CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN. 121 

Memory. Mysteries. Theories. 



CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN. 

The theories of philosophers as to memory are va- 
rious, and often in conflict. While, like hearing or 
seeing, it is an original power bestowed by Grod, there 
are many things in reference to it very mysterious to us. 
It may be increased to almost any extent. There is on 
record an account of a man who, after reading a news- 
paper, could repeat all its contents ; and it is said that 
Cyrus could call all the soldiers of his immense army 
by name. And it may be impaired to almost any ex- 
tent, and in a great variety of ways — by diseases, in- 
juries, fright, and old age. William Tennant forgot 
every thing he had learned, even to the letters of the 
alphabet, by ail attack of fever ; and Artemidorus was 
so terrified by a crocodile as to forget all he ever knew. 
Nor is there any thing more common in old people 
than a forgetfulness of passing events, and a vivid 
memory of the events and occurrences of their youth. 
Aristotle imputes the shortness of the memory of chil- 
dren to the softness of the brain, which will not hold 
impressions ; and that of the aged to the hardness of 
the brain, which refuses to receive deep impressions. 
The old philosophers talked of pictures being made 
upon the brain, and of the retention of these pictures 
constituting memory, so that the memory was a great 
picture-gallery ; and as the brain possessed the power 

F 



122 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Impression longest retained. Facts. 

of retaining those pictures, persons had a good or bad 
memory. 

I have often felt curious to know, in the case of a 
faihng memory by reason of age, what were the last 
impressions retained. Dr. Rush tells of a woman who 
forgot her own name, by reason of the grief induced 
by the loss of her husband and several children. I 
have been told of a merchant in New York who had 
to inquire of those around him, at the window of the 
post-office, what his name was, before he could ask for 
his letters ; and native-born Grermans, who seemed to 
have lost the use of their own language by a residence 
of sixty years in America, have been known, in old age, 
to forget all their English, and to talk and pray only in 
their native tongue. Facts like these, to any amount, 
might be stated. I was once collecting from the old- 
est people facts and incidents for some notes as to the 
history of the town of my residence, and I was amazed 
to find with what distinctness and accuracy they could 
give narrations as to occurrences during the war of the 
Revolution, when stirring incidents of a few years pre- 
vious were entirely forgotten ; and all this suggested 
the inquiry as to the impressions longest retained by 
the mind whose memory is weakened simply by the 
enfeebling process of increasing years. 

On my removal to my present charge, I found 
among my people an aged woman of peculiar aspect : 
aged, tall, straight as an arrow, peculiar in her dress, 
of firm step, with a strongly-marked countenance, she 
impressed every body at first sight. She walked with 
a cane, and so straightforward that every body con- 



CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN. 123 

All old lady. Peculiarities. Memory. 

ceded to her the right of way. She went to the end 
of her seat in the church, whoever occupied its front, 
and she sat upright through the longest service, hear- 
ing and praying over all that was said. Her mental 
character was like her external appearance, pecu- 
liar. Her opinions were defined and firm, and were 
given without faltering ; her likes and dislikes she 
never concealed. Although possessing considerable 
property, she lived alone until infirmity rendered a 
nurse necessary. She survived two husbands, all her 
children, all her immediate relations, and was like 
an old tree standing alone in the field while all its 
former associates had fallen before the axe of the 
woodman. 

She was the daughter of a minister who figured 
somewhat as a patriot in the war of the Eevolution, 
and was rooted and grounded in the truth. Her edu- 
cation was above the ordinary standard for her time, 
and served to give emphasis to her character. She 
was born again during the war of the Revolution, and 
professed her faith in Christ when the smoke of our 
battle-fields was passing away before the genius of 
Peace ; and beyond any aged person I ever knew, her 
memory was retentive and exact as to the men, and 
scenes, and events of those stormy times. She could 
describe the features and persons of men, their dress, 
the very color of their hair ; she could give the texts 
of sermons she had heard seventy years before, and 
quote sentences from them ; and as her social position 
was such as to bring her into the society of the im- 
portant men of her youth, she was full of anecdote as 



124 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Memory fails. A blank. Christ remembered. 

to nearly all the men that then guided the destinies of 
her native state. 

But under the pressure of increasing years, her 
memory began rapidly to fail. In wandering over her 
rooms at midnight, with a candle, she set fire to her 
house, and was hut just rescued from the flames. She 
was compelled to remove to another house, and to an- 
other part of the town, and thenceforward there seemed 
to he an almost entire failure of memory. Often I 
would sit by her side, and naming her first and second 
husband, I would ask her if she remembered any thing 
in reference to them. The reply was, No. She had 
one son, on whose memory and picture she doted, and 
whose grave she was in the habit of visiting, and who 
was often the subject of most exciting conversation ; 
but she had no recollection of him. Her former pas- 
tor she most tenderly loved, but he was forgotten. She 
would look into my face, and ask, ^' "Who are you, my 
child ?" I spoke of her father and mother, of her 
brothers and sisters, but not a trace of them remained. 
After trying her in these ways until satisfied that on 
all such subjects her mind was an entire blank, I 
would ask her, " Do you remember any thing about 
Jesus Christ ?" and she would at once assume an erect 
position, and her eye would kindle with its accustomed 
fire, and, seizing my hand, she would say, with her 
wonted energy, " Can I, a poor sinner, ever forget the 
dear Savior that has died for me ?" And then she 
would talk with interest for minutes together, and in 
a most pious and earnest strain, about her dear Savior. 
Wlien thus excited, I would commence a text of 



J 



CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN. 125 

Text repeated. Test often applied. Another case. 

Scripture, and she would conclude it with perfect ac- 
curacy, commencing where I ceased. I would say, 
" For we know that if our earthly house of this taber- 
nacle were dissolved — " there I would stop, and she 
would add, ''We have a building of God, a house 
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." I 
would say, " There is therefore now no condemna- 
nation— -" she would add, " To them who are in 
Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after 
the Spirit." Often did I try her in this way, and 
never did I find her memory in such a state of torpor 
as to forget Christ. But as soon as the excitement 
caused by the name of Christ passed away, she would 
relapse into her accustomed state of forgetfulness, in 
which she usually occupied herself in picking out the 
threads, one after the other, from an old piece of cloth. 
Thus this once heroic woman would occupy herself 
for hours together. As it was the first example of the 
kind I had ever witnessed, it greatly interested me; 
and as she lived in this state for three or four years, 
the experiment was very often repeated^ and with pre- 
cisely the same results. 

Subsequent to the death of this excellent woman, a 
similar case came under my notice, and to which I 
have already referred in these Pencilings. Family af- 
flictions, repeated bereavements, and severe and oft- 
repeated attacks of sickness, weakened her memory, 
until her husband, her living and deceased children, 
were all forgotten — until all traces of the past seemed 
erased from her mind. Yet the moment the name of 
Jesus was mentioned, she woke up as from a dream^ 



126 PARISH PENCILING S. 

An aged man. Repeating the Catechism. 

and after giving utterance to the feelings of her pious 
soul, she would relapse again into her state of forget- 
fulness, from which nothing could again rouse her but 
the name of Jesus. 

I met with an aged man during one of my family- 
visitations whose case was one of deep interest. He 
had passed his ninetieth year, was exceedingly frail, 
and his memory greatly impaired. He was taught 
the Shorter Catechism in his youth by a pious mother, 
and although he had left the Church of his fathers for 
another branch of the Church of Christ, he instructed 
his own family in that excellent form of sound words. 
His children had all passed away, as did nearly all rec- 
ollection of them. The time was upon him when the 
grasshopper was a burden, and when he would wake 
up at the sound of the bird ; and his sleepless nights 
he nearly always spent in asking and answering, in an 
audible voice, the questions of the Shorter Catechism ; 
and he would go over and over it, from the beginning 
to the end, without missing a question, and with a 
perfect verbal accuracy. And yet he could not an- 
swer any one question of it if the thread was broken, 
or if it were asked by another. 

These instances, and many like them of which I 
have heard, have induced me to conclude that the im- 
pressions longest retained by a memory failing under 
the pressure of old age are those of a religious charac- 
ter. In the instances narrated, when parents, hus- 
bands, wives, children, friends, were all forgotten, the 
name of Christ, in all his preciousness as a Sav- 
ior, was remembered, and texts of Scripture fragrant 



CHRIST NEVER FORGOTTEN. 127 

Religious impressions deepest. Why 1 Prayer. 

with his name, and formal statements of Christian 
doctrine, were repeated as if with unimpaired recollec- 
tion. 

May we account for these statements on the ground 
that religious truths are those which most engage the 
powers of the mind and the affections of the heart, and 
thus most deeply impress both ? Or may we account 
for them on the ground that they absorb more atten- 
tion, and for a longer time, than any other truths or 
things with which we have to do? Or is it so that 
the affections of the renewed heart cling so to Christ, 
that when these affections are excited, they wake all 
the memories of his person, work, and love ? Or is it 
so that, amid the sorrowful decays of the powers of the 
mind, the Holy Ghost is carrying on the great work of 
sanctifying the soul through the influence of the truth ? 
But, whatever may be the true solution of the above 
statements, one thing is obvious, that when the minds 
of the truly pious give out all impressions and recol- 
lections of past scenes and events, and of the dearest 
and nearest friends, even then Christ is in the heart 
the hope of glory. 

Oh, when flesh, and strength, and mind, and mem- 
ory all fail us, may Christ be the strength of our heart 
and our portion forever ! 



128 PARISH P E N C I L I N G S. 

Thankfulness enjoined. The truly thankful few^ 



THANKFULNESS. 

Thankfulness is a Christian virtue often commend- 
ed, and yet but too little cultivated ; and how frequent- 
ly, v^hen thanksgiving is on our lips, is corroding dis- 
satisfaction at the heart ! And the fact that Grod so 
frequently enjoins a spirit of thankfulness, and the duty 
of thanksgiving, is a proof of his good- will toward us, 
and of his desire for our happiness; for while prayer 
reminds us of our wants and imperfections, and while 
confession reminds us of our sins and ill deserts, and 
while repentance brings up in review our violations of 
the divine law in all their criminality, thanksgiving 
only exercises the memory on blessings received, and 
gives a delightful exercise to the affections in view of 
them. The truly thankful man is the only truly hap- 
py man ; and while it is difficult to eradicate from hu- 
man nature a sense of gratitude for benefits received, 
while even the brute creation, the ass, the ox, the dog, 
can manifest gratitude, yet none but they who have 
tasted that the Lord is good can truly thajik the Lord 
for his goodness, or can learn in whatsoever state they 
are therewith to be content. In the course of a min- 
istry now somewhat protracted, I have met with many, 
very many fretful disciples, who were evermore com- 
plaining that all things were against them, and wdth 
but comparatively few who could rejoice in the cloudy 



THANKFULNESS. 129 

A high attainment. A family. Au afilicted saint. 

and dark day equally as in the day of prosperous sun- 
shine. It is a high Christian attainment, indeed, to 
feel that all things are working together for our good,, 
when to the eye of sense the very stars in their courses 
seem to fight against us. Yet one such instance I did 
find, to the praise of the grace of God. 

I called on a family during a spiritual refi^eshing 
with which I had but little previous acquaintance. 
The father was intemperate, and a rampant Univer- 
salist, and was far more confident of preparation for 
heaven than ever was Paul. He was, on the whole,, 
the most full-blown specimen of that enormous error 
that I had met. He was profane, sharp in intellect^ 
and confident of heaven. The mother was subdued, 
gentle in her tones, alive to divine truth, and deeply 
serious, but yet reluctant to give full expression to her 
feelings in the presence of her husband. Some of the 
children were deeply-convicted inquirers as to the way 
to be saved. I soon repeated my visit ; and the result 
was, that that mother, with several members of the 
family, professed Christ on the same day, and took their 
seats together at the table of the Lord. 

I have met with but few more deeply afflicted than 
was that excellent woman. "Weekly, often daily, had 
she to bear the presence of a drunken TJniversaHst hus- 
band. She was afflicted with the rheumatism to a 
degree which distorted her joints, and sent excruciating 
pain through her system, and rendered her often unable 
to move. Her husband died of a protracted sickness, 
which rendered necessary all the attention she could 
render ; and it was rendered, amid pain, without a 

F2 



130 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Severe trials. Comforted. The reply. 

murmur. Two children died, one after the other, with 
consumption, and in the full maturity of their years ; 
she attended them, as she could, cheerfully and con- 
stantly ; and, as they died in hope, she committed them 
to the grave without a murmur. A son, one of the 
props of her declining years, died in the same way. 
After covering his remains under the clods of the val- 
ley, I called to comfort her as her pastor. But the 
Comforter abode with her continually ; and while she 
received me with cheerful though sorrowful greetings, 
she needed none of my aid to lead her to the source of 
all comfort. Sitting down by her side, we held in sub- 
stance the following conversation : 

" Well, my friend, the Master seems to be wringing 
out to you a full cup of affliction." 

^' He is only fulfilling his promises to me," was the 
reply. 

" "What promises ?" I asked. 

" Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth," was the 
answer ; and she repeated the entire passage with an 
emphasis and earnestness which showed that she fully 
understood and applied it. 

" But does it not sometimes seem as if you were re- 
ceiving more than your share of affliction in this life ?" 
I asked. The reply made on me a lasting impression. 

" Grod knows me," she said. " He knows all I need 
to make me a partaker of his holiness. He wfll not 
cause me to suffer a pang beyond what is needful. 
You speak of my afflictions ; why, they are very few ; 
when I commence counting them, I get through in a 
few minutes ; but when I strive to reckon up my mer- 



THANKFULNESS. 131 

Counting up mercies. Rebuked. Rich in faith. 

cies, I know not where to begin or end ; I can never 
get through. Many spend their time in going over and 
over their few afflictions ; that does me no good ; I 
strive to count up my mercies, and they make me fee] 
so thankful !" And as she uttered this last sentence, 
her bent form assumed an almost erect position, and 
her whole countenance, withered and sunken as it was, 
and furrowed by many a sorrow, was illumined; it 
shone as if a flood of heavenly light had suddenly fall- 
en upon it. I was rebuked and instructed. 

As she lingered to nearly her fourscore years, amid 
manifold infirmities, I was her frequent visitor ; for 
months together, a weekly one. Never did I find her 
complaining — never in any other than a thankful frame. 
If by any allusion I called her attention to her afl[lic- 
tions, she said just enough to show that she felt them 
all keenly and deeply, and then turned to her mani- 
fold and undeserved mercies, upon which she dwelt 
with a feeling, at times, approaching almost to rapture. 
Often would she adopt the language of the 103d Psalm 
as her own, and exclaim, " Bless the Lord, my soul, 
and forget not all his benefits." Although aflflicted far 
beyond the ordinary lot of men, and poor as to this 
world, she was rich in faith, and was the most thank- 
ful Christian I have ever known. 

Toward the close of her life, her mind gave way and 
her memory greatly failed. It was difficult, at times, 
to rouse her to the point of an interesting conversation. 
For the purpose of trying her temper and spirit of soul, 
I would ask her about some of her dear friends ; but 
they had fallen from her memory. I would ask her as 



132 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Memory failed. Progress. Complainings. 

to some of the scenes of trial through which she had 
passed, and under my own eye,, hut they left no trace 
behind. I once asked her in reference to her husband 
and children, but there was no remembrance of them. 
I then asked her if she knew who was the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and she started as one awaking from a dream, 
and went off in a eulogy upon him as her Savior, her 
Redeemer, who had died upon the cross for her ; and 
after giving utterance to her thankfulness for all his 
mercies, she relapsed again into a state of forgetfulness ; 
and from the state of mental torpor into which she had 
fallen, nothing could so arouse her as the name of Je- 
sus. Her entire religious life was one of endurance, 
strong confidence, and unceasing thankfulness. Al- 
though in humble life, she was one of the most instruct- 
ive Christians I have ever known. Her intellect was 
bright, but not enlarged by education ; her circle was 
narrow, and with but little in it to excite to high spir- 
itual aspirations; she came into the Church late in 
life, when the seeds of grace should have been ripening 
instead of being in the blade ; and yet she had, to a re- 
markable degree, the secret of the Lord — her life was 
hid with Christ in Grod. Praise and thankfulness were 
ever on her lips. 

How varied the lessons of instruction contained in 
this narrative ! 

How much more disposed we are to complain under 
the discipline of our heavenly Father than to rejoice in 
the far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory for 
which it is all designed to prepare us ! And we fret 
and complain more over the withdrawal of one com- 



THANKFULNESS. 13^ 

Complaining amid mercies. Cultivate thankfulness. 

fort, than we rejoice over the continuance of a thousand 
mercies. How this child of G-od, rejoicing amid priva- 
tions, should rebuke those who are evermore complain- 
ing amid abounding comforts ! Alas ! how many 
there are who give convincing evidence that they do 
love G-ody and yet who seem ever to say by their con- 
duct that he is a hard master ! The precious ointment 
of grace is in the soul, but it is spoiled by the dead fly 
of a fretful temper ; the true light is in the mind, but 
it is veiled by a complaining spirit ; and when the Lord 
is leading them to higher degrees of sanctification by 
ways that they know not, they are evermore saying, 
" All these things are against me." This can not be 
otherwise regarded than as a great blemish upon Chris- 
tian character, and is emphatically reproved by the 
foregoing portraiture of a dear child of Grod, whose 
Christian life was one of deep personal and relative 
afflictions. Blessed are they who have learned in 
whatsoever state they aje therewith to be content. 

It teaches all to cultivate a thankful spirit. "Why 
should a living man complain ? And where life is 
continued, it is usually amid mercies far surpassing all 
earthly afflictions. The whole Christian economy is 
designed to call forth abounding thanksgiving ; and a 
Christian is never so truly what his Master would have 
him to be, nor so like what he will be hereafter, as 
when, by daily thanksgiving, he is rendering to the 
Lord according to the mercies he is daily receiving. 

There is, perhaps, no better way of cultivating a 
thankful spirit than by selecting some one eminent for 
its manifestation, and then seeking to know the mer- 



134 PARISH PENCILING S. 

David. Paul. Duty of all Christians. 

cies which caused his thanksgivings to abound. Such 
a one was David: so full was his heart, that the least 
mercy caused it to overflow ; so ingenious was he, that 
he drew a cause of thanksgiving from the most adverse 
providences of his life. Nothing came amiss to him. 
" Like the fire which transmutes rotten wood and 
dingy coal to light and flame," the fire of David's devo- 
tion turned his hardships into blessings, and his sorrows 
into songs of thanksgiving. Such a one was Paul. 
Feeling that he had all things in Christ, he suffered all 
things cheerfully, joyfully for his sake, looking forward 
to the recompense of reward. His life was a continued 
thank-offering to G-od for his abounding mercies. No 
sufferings, persecutions, aflBictions, ever drew a com- 
plaint from his lips. 

And like unto these in kind, if not in degree, was 
the life of the child of Grod here narrated. Christ was 
hers, and she clung to him by a faith which rarely 
wavered; and, like Paul, she knew that all things 
were hers ; and, with the ingenuity of David, she drew 
a cause of thanksgiving from her deepest afflictions. 
And why should not all the children of God be like 
her ? "Why should not every believer be in a constant 
frame of mind and heart which will induce them daily 
to say, 

" When all thy mercies, my God, 
My rising soul surveys. 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 
In wonder, love, and praise 1" 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D. D. 135 

Two characters. To be known in both. First sight. 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D.D.* 

E/EVEREND AND Dear Sir, — You ask from me my' 
reminiscences of the Rev. Dr. G-reen, and my views as 
to his general character as a minister and as a hterary 
man ; and w^hile feehng that there are many more 
competent for the task, because of their long and fa- 
miliar acquaintance with this great and good man, I 
hesitate not to comply with your request. I shall ar- 
range my views of his character under a few heads, 
and bring in my recollections of him by way of illus- 
trating them. 

1 . He was a man pre-eminently of two characters, 
public and private ; and to form a right estimate of 
him, he must be known in both. To those who only 
knew him as a public man, he was stern, unyielding, 
dictatorial, and repulsive ; to those who knew him both 
in public and in private, he was mild, pliable, and pe- 
culiarly attractive. Hence, by one class he was re- 
spected, but disliked ; while by another he was un- 
commonly beloved, and regarded as an oracle. 

Although I had heard much of him from my boy- 
hood, and had read some of his writings, I never saw 
him until 1826 ; and the sight of him, at that time, 
would induce any young man to resolve to keep at a 
respectful distance. His form was full and command- 
ing ; his appearance was stern ; his eye, gleaming 

* Written for a forthcoming work of the Rev. Dr. Sprague. 



136 r A R I S II r E N (J I L 1 N S- 

First acquaintance. Change of feeling. Erroneous views of him. 

through shaggy eyebrows, was penetrating ; his step 
was firm, and from his cane to his wig there was some- 
thing, which, to say the least, was more repulsive than 
attractive to a youth ; and with this conclusion agreed 
many of the anecdotes which I had heard of him while 
President of Nassau Hall. My acquaintance with him 
commenced in 1827, and in this wise : Yisiting Phil- 
adelphia as the agent of one of our national societies, I 
felt his approbation of my plans necessary to my suc- 
cess. I called to see him, and was introduced into his- 
study. I soon found myself in converse with a cour-^ 
teous, kind, but dignified Christian minister. He not 
only approved my plans^ but tendered his own sub- 
scription to the object. Finding, on inquiry, as I wa& 
about to retire, that I was a candidate for the ministry, 
he invited me to a seat by his side ; and the impres- 
sions made upon my mind and heart by his kind in- 
quiries, by his paternal advice, are vivid to this hour. 
He dismissed me with his blessings upon myself and 
my object. Never was a revolution more entire wrought 
in the feelings of a man, and from that day forward 
he was my counselor in cases of difficulty ; and so 
pleasant and simple was he in private^ that, on leaving 
my family after an occasional visit of a few days, my 
little children would cling to his feet and his garments, 
crying out, '' You must not go, Dr. Green." I feel 
quite sure that those who only knew him in Presbyte- 
ries and Synods, and especially in the ardent conflicts 
of the Greneral Assembly, of which he was almost a 
standing member, have the most erroneous views of 
his true character. 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D. D. 137 

Truthful. A- truer explanation.. Fools and wise. 

2- His was a truthful character. Truth was to him 
truth; and what he beheved he felt and acted out. 
His was not the policy to beheve one way and act an- 
other. Such policy he scorned, and withheld his con- 
fidence from those who practiced it. A man cast in 
such a mould is likely to be unpopular with that large 
class of persons who regard truth with less reverence ^ 
who stretch it or contract it to suit circumstances ; 
who, in the bad sense of the phrase, are ready to be- 
come '' all things to all men." They are prejudiced,, 
obstinate, bigoted, sectarian. But there is a better and 
truer explanation of all this. There is a deep and 
heartfelt reverence for the truth as such, which, on all 
occasions, and every where, forbids its compromise on 
the ground of mere worldly expediency. There is an 
inner reverence for it, in kind and degree, like unto^ 
that which is felt for God himself. This was conspic- 
uous through the whole long life of Dr. Grreen ; and 
often have 1 heard him censuring, with far greater se- 
verity, what he considered the crooked pohcy of his 
friends, who always acted with him, than that of his 
opponents, who always pursued a different policy from 
his. His firmness was at an equal remove from fick- 
leness and obstinacy, which are alike alien to a truly 
noble character. The one is barren of good as the 
yielding wave, the other as the unyielding rock. Al- 
though holding his opinions strongly, he was ever will- 
ing to yield them for good reasons. A fool never 
changes his opinions, but a wise man always will for 
sufficient cause. 

3.. He was a most fervent and instructive preacher. 



138 PARISH PENCILING S. 

As a preacher. Manner. Style. Lectures. 

Although I never heard him preach until he had passed 
the meridian of life ; until, fearful of attacks of vertigo, 
to which he v^as subject, he generally declined the pul- 
pit ; yet the few sermons I have heard him deliver 
very deeply impressed his hearers, and very obviously 
indicated that, in the prime of his years, he was a man 
of no ordinary power. His utterance was distinct, his 
manner was calm and dignified ; if he never rose to 
the higher style of action, he always attained its end, 
attention and impression ; he made you feel that he 
entirely believed every word he uttered, and that it 
was of infinite moment that you should believe them 
also. The minister that uniformly makes this impres- 
sion must be one of great power. 

Nor was the impression which he made simply that 
of manner ; his matter was always weighty, well ar- 
ranged, and instructive. If his topics were common- 
place, they were always important ; if his discussions 
were sometimes dry, they were clear as a sunbeam ; 
if you could not always adopt his opinions, there was 
no mistake as to what he meant. In all my inter- 
course with him, I had never cause to ask, " "What do 
you mean, sir?" nor do I remember a sentence in all 
his writings which is not entirely transparent. 

His most valuable lectures on the Shorter Catechism, 
and his pubhshed sermons, give a fair specimen of his 
ordinary style of preaching. If they have not the am- 
plitude of Chalmers, nor the polished eloquence of Hall, 
nor the warmth of Davies, they have the purity of 
Blair, in union with a natural simplicity, which strong- 
ly fix their truly evangelical sentiments in the mind 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D.D. 189 

An expounder. Sabbath-school teachers. 

and heart. Hence the devoted attachment, both to 
him and his sentiments, of all who ever enjoyed his 
ministrations. 

He greatly excelled as an expounder of the v^ord of 
G-od. Of his talent in this way I had an abundance 
of opportunity of forming a judgment. The Sabbath- 
school teachers of Philadelphia adopted a rule to have 
the same Bible lesson taught on the same Sabbath in 
all schools of the city, and to have the lesson expound- 
ed to them by some clergyman. The lecture-room in 
Cherry Street was the place, and Dr. Green was the 
man selected. On each evening the large room was 
crowded by one of the most interesting and interested 
audiences I ever beheld ; and although Dr. Grreen was 
then approaching his threescore years and ten, never 
did I hear more clear, and full, and fresh, and pleasing 
expositions of divine truth. At the close of the lecture, 
opportunity was given for the asking of any questions 
upon any points that were left unexplained, which 
were always answered with a promptness which show- 
ed the remarkable fullness of his mind upon all topics 
connected with the exposition or elucidation of the 
Scriptures. I know not that I ever attended a more 
instructive religious service. I have learned that it 
was greatly blessed of G-od to the conversion and edifi- 
cation of Sabbath-school teachers. He served his gen- 
eration in more dignified stations, but probably in none 
more usefully than when expounding the word of life 
to nearly a thousand young men and women, who, on 
each successive Sabbath, sought to impress those views 
received from him on the minds of ten thousand chil- 



140 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Devotional spirit. Devotional compositions. 

dren. Might not this plan be successfully revived in 
all our cities ? 

4. He v^as a truly devotional man. His public de- 
votional services were always peculiarly impressive. 
They were solemn, pathetic, reverential, appropriate, 
and never unduly protracted. In the family he always 
commenced morning and evening prayer with implor- 
ing a blessing upon the service ; and while engaged in 
them, all felt that he was conversing with God as a 
man converses with a friend. I have often heard him 
express his regrets at the little preparation ministers 
often make for conducting the devotional exercises of 
a congregation, and I have heard him state that in the 
early part of his ministry he was in the habit of writ- 
ing prayers with equal regularity as sermons ; and, 
while he never read them, nor committed them to 
memory, the writing of them furnished him with topics 
for prayer, and gave to those topics arrangement, and 
to the expression of them variety and appropriateness. 
For this thought he may have been indebted to his 
venerated tutor. Dr. Witherspoon, who always recom- 
mended devotional composition to his theological stu- 
dents, of whom Dr. Grreen was one. 

My first sermon was preached in the Third Presby- 
terian Church, Philadelphia, then under the pastoral 
care of the Rev. Dr. Ely, and from the text " Compel 
them to come in." Dr. Ely was absent, and to my 
confusion, Dr. Grreen entered the church just at the 
opening of the service. Feeling it better to have him 
behind me than before me, I sent for him to the pulpit. 
In my ardor to stimulate ministers and Christians to 



THE REV. ASHBEL OREEN, D. D. 141 

First sermon. Re-writtcn. Last interview, 

do their duty, I omitted almost any allusion to the nec- 
essary agency of the Spirit to secure their success. He 
made the concluding prayer, in which, with his accus- 
tomed felicity, he converted the topics discussed into 
supplications, and then brought out most prominently 
and emphatically the essential truth by me omitted. 
I felt that the whole congregation saw and felt the de- 
fect of my sermon. His kindness was marked at the 
close of the service. I went to my study, re-wrote my 
sermon, put into it the prayer of Dr. G-reen, and it is 
unnecessary to say that it was greatly improved by 
the addition. I subsequently mentioned the fact to 
him, and we had over it a hearty laugh. 

My very last interview with him impressed me with 
the depth of that spirit of devotion which characterized 
his life. He was feeble, and forgetful, and in a mood 
to talk but very little to any body. Hearing that I 
was in the city, he sent for me, that I might attend to 
a matter of business for him connected with the New 
Jersey Historical Society. I entered his study on a 
May morning about nine o'clock. His G-reek Testa- 
ment was open before him. He requested me to be 
seated. The business ended, he waved his hand, say- 
ing, " My devotional reading is not yet concluded ; I 
shall be happy to see you at another time ;" and as I 
closed the door of his study, the prayer, ^' G-od bless 
you," fell upon my ear ; the last words I ever heard 
liim utter. All testify that the closing years of his life 
were marked by a spirit remarkably devotional. 

5. He possessed a truly catholic spirit. This asser- 
tion, perhaps, will startle some who only knew his pub- 



142 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Catholic spirit. Dr. Woods. Thankful for all good done. 

lie character, and who have only heard of him as an 
impersonation of Old-school Presbyterianism. Yet it 
is true to the letter. His own views he held strongly, 
but in perfect charity to those who differed from him. 
Although his contributions and exertions were mainly 
confined to the organization of his own Church, it was 
out of consistency with himself, and not out of illiber- 
ality to others. More than once have I heard him de- 
tail an account of a visit made by the venerable Dr. 
Woods, for so many years the ornament of the Ando- 
ver Theological Seminary. They compared views on 
theological and other subjects, and while they differed 
a little in the explanations of some positions, they rad- 
ically agreed. '' Would to Grod," I have heard him 
say, " that all our ministers and churches held the sen- 
timents of my brother Woods." And after the disrup- 
tion of our Church, he never permitted a day to pass 
without the most fervent prayers to Grod on the behalf 
of the brethren to whom he was regarded as being so 
violently opposed. He had none of the narrow secta- 
rianism that would confine the Church visible to those 
only who walked with him ; and often have I heard 
him rejoice in the good that was doing by Methodists, 
Baptists, Episcopalians, to all of whom, as Christians 
and as ministers, he could extend the right hand of 
fellowship, although on all suitable occasions he could 
strongly maintain the positions on which he differed 
from them. There is not probably a national society 
for the spread of the Grospel in this land to which he 
was not a contributor, and of which he was not a mem- 
ber or a manager ; while he may be considered the fa- 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D. D. 143 

Anecdote. Bishop White. Son of consolation. 

ther of nearly all the Boards and Societies of his own 
deeply- venerated Church. '^ Nobody will question the 
Presbyterianism of Dr. G-reen," said an eloquent divine, 
during a debate in the Greneral Assembly, " as he was 
dyed in the wool." " The brother mistakes," said Dr. 
Grreen, with that promptness of repartee which he pos- 
sessed ; " the Lord, by his grace, made me a Presbyte- 
rian." And although the principles of his Church 
were interwoven with his spiritual life, and formed a 
part of it, yet he had the most cordial love for the chil- 
dren of Grod, by whatever name called. Never have I 
heard him speak with more affection of any man than 
of his friend, the amiable and venerated Bishop White. 
6. He was remarkably gifted as a son of consolation 
to desponding souls. This, perhaps, was mainly owing 
to his own simple views of divine truth, and his rich 
experience of its power. He had the power of simpli- 
fying every subject on which he spoke or wrote, and 
of doing it in a few words. This is very apparent in 
his lectures on the Shorter Catechism, prepared for the 
youth of his own congregation. "Wlien anxious or de- 
sponding souls applied to him for direction, he first 
sought out the cause of trouble, and then, like a well- 
instructed scribe, he so simply presented and applied 
the remedial truth, as to give, if not immediate, yet 
speedy relief. He acted upon the principle, that '' if 
the truth makes us free, we are free indeed." Hence 
aged, desponding Christians, and individuals asking 
what they should do to be saved, and from different 
congregations in the city, were often found in his study 
seeking his counsels. On such occasions there was a 



144 PARISH PENCILINGS, 

Anecdote. Miss Linnard. The bruised reed. 

kindness and blandness in his manner, which formed 
the greatest psssible contrast with his stern and un- 
flinching position when €ontending for principles on 
the floor of the General Assembly. 

A case in illustration of this I will state. Twenty- 
five years ago, the name of Miss Linnard, whose me- 
moir has since been published, was familiar to the pious 
female circles of Philadelphia. She shone conspicu- 
ously among them for her fine sense, great activity, 
and deep piety. A minister, still living, preached a 
preparatory lecture in the church in Spruce Street, of 
which she was a member, on the text, '' Lovest thou 
me ?" which cast her into the deepest gloom. Such 
were the strong and vivid representations which he 
made as to the necessary preparations for the right 
partaking of the Lord's Supper, that, conscious of not 
possessing them, she resolved not to commune. Her 
sense of duty and her deep depression of feeling came 
into conflict, and greatly excited her soul. In this state 
she had recourse to Dr. Green, who had heard the lec- 
ture. '' My dear child," said he, '' our excellent broth- 
er seemed to forget that the Lord's table is spread, not 
for angels, but for sinners. He has come, not to call 
the righteous, but sinners to repentance. It is the 
weary and heavy laden he invites to himself, and to 
the privileges of his house." It was enough. She left 
his study rejoicing in the Lord; and a more joyful 
communion season she had never spent on earth. I 
heard the lecture, and the incident here narrated I 
have had from both parties. And this, I feel per- 
suaded, is a fair illustration of his skill and success as 



THE REV. ASHBEL GREEN, D.D. 145 

As a literary man. President of Princeton College. 

a comforter of the Lord's people, and as a director of 
the inquiring to the cross of Jesus Christ. 

It remains for me only to speak of him as a literary 
man. As his life and writings will do his memory full 
justice upon this subject, I need say but little upon it. 
His academic habits he carried with him into his pas- 
toral life, and always took rank in the very first class 
of the educated men of his own age — with such men 
as Dwight, and Smith, and Wilson, and Mason. If he 
was excelled in brilliancy by these, and others with 
whom he ranked, he was fully their equal in all solid 
attainments. It was no ordinary tribute to his literary 
character that he should be selected to succeed Dr. 
Smith as the President of Princeton College, in which 
position he discharged his duties as instructor with dis- 
tinguished ability, and, in a religious point of view, 
with distinguished usefulness. It was during his pres- 
idency that the revival occurred which, under God, 
brought into the Church and into the ministry such 
men as Dr. John Breckinridge, Dr. Hodge, Bishops 
Mcllvaine of Ohio, and Johns of Virginia. On retir- 
ing from the presidency, he commenced the Christian 
Advocate, which he edited for twelve years, and whose 
twelve volumes give the most ample testimony to his 
rich scholarship, his keen discrimination, his metaphys- 
ical acumen, his sharpness as a critic, and to the ex- 
tent and variety of his reading. Some of the ablest 
productions of his pen were written after he had passed 
his fourscore years ; and to the very close of his life 
his Grreek Testament was his daily study, and he could 
repeat passages from the Greek and Ron, an classics 

G- 



146 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Habits of study An example. His future. 

with the interest and vigor of a school boy. His hab- 
its of study he never surrendered to th-e last ; and I 
have in nay possession a note v^ritten to me on business 
in his eighty-fifth year — written with as clear, bold, 
and steady a hand as if written in his fortieth year. 
In this respect he is an example worthy of imitation 
by all literary men in advanced years, to study, write, 
and work to the last. Still waters soon stagnate ; run- 
ning waters never. The mind, unemployed, like the 
blade of Hudibras, 

" Which ate into itself, for lack 
Of somebody to hew and hack," 

preys upon itself, and soon passes away. 

Such is my estimate of the character of Dr. Green. 
By others who knew him much longer and more in- 
timately, it might be sketched more strongly and truly ; 
but such are the impressions he has left upon my mind 
and heart by an acquaintance with him of twenty 
years. On the whole, I esteem him as among the 
ripest scholars, the most able divines, the most useful 
men which our country has produced. His name will 
be more closely connected with the history and prog- 
ress of the Presbyterian Church one hundred years 
hence, than that of any of his predecessors. He well 
deserves a name and a place among '' The Lights of 
the American Pulpit." 



BEDINIj THE PAPAL NUNCIO, GONE. 147 

His modesty. Thebes. Influence of titles. 



BEDINI, THE PAPAL NUKCIO, GONE! 

And is it so, that Monsieur Archbishop G-aetano Be- 
dini, with all his suffixes and affixes, is gone ? Yes, 
he is gone ! or, as a Hebrew of olden time would ex- 
press it, *' He has turned his back — ^he has run away." 
His modesty led him to avoid all public demonstra- 
tions, and he sought to get out of the country between 
two nights ; and now he is safely, as we trust, on his 
way to the foot of the Holy Father, to render an ac- 
count of his mission as Nuncio to Brazil, taking the 
United States on his way! And now that the farce 
is ended, and that Bedini has run away, it may be 
well to ponder a few matters and things concerning 
the man and his mission. 

He came here with the high-sounding title of Arch- 
bishop of Thebes, an old city in ruins on the banks of 
the Nile, which it is presumed he has never seen, and 
never will. The Pope knows the influence of titles 
over weak minds, and when he wants an agent, he 
seeks a man fitted for the duty, and bestows upon him 
some high-sounding title, at once to gratify his vanity, 
and to gain for him credit and access among the peo- 
ple to whom he is sent. Bedini is sent here, as he was 
once sent to Bologna, as a spy ; and that he might the 
better and the more readily perform his duties, he was 
made Archbishop of Thebes, and had bestowed upon 



148 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A name nothing ! Nuncio to Brazil. A spy. 

him a little fillet made from the wool of holy sheep by 
the withered nuns of St. Agnes ! Had he come simply 
as a priest, he would pass unnoticed ; but as the Arch- 
bishop of Thebes, he rides in the mayor's carriage, and 
sails in a government steamer, and flourishes his ca- 
nonicals at Albany and Washington ! And yet some 
foolish people say a name is nothing ! 

But he merely took the United States on his way as 
Nuncio to Brazil ! Another piece of low trickery ; if 
not, why did he not go to Brazil ? A nuncio is an 
embassador from the Pope to an emperor or king; 
when an envoy is sent to smaller states, and with lim- 
ited powers, he is called an Internuncio. And that he 
might loom up the more largely in our republican 
country, the title of Nuncio to Brazil is superadded to 
that of Archbishop of Thebes ! And the facts in the 
case are, that he was made archbishop of a city that 
he has probably never seen, and never will ; and that 
he was commissioned as nuncio to a country upon 
which he has turned his back ; and all for the purpose 
of exciting our veneration for a man, the object of 
whose mission is yet concealed, and whose person and 
character, his own noble countrymen being witnesses, 
are only worthy of abhorrence. 

And who is the man on whom the Holy Father be- 
stowed these titles for sinister purposes ? The Italians 
that know him and his history being witnesses, he is 
a man of low origin, who acted as spy at Bologna to 
mark the friends of liberty, and who, when clothed 
with power there, because of the ferocity of his nature, 
gave up to death the most cruel and summary the 



BEDINI, THE PAPAL NUNCIO, GONE. 149 

Dregs labeled. Moral character. His letter. 

persons that he had previously marked as a spy ! He 
was first the spy, and next the butcher of Bologna ; 
and then, when quaiUng before the indignant scorn of 
the civihzed world, he sought to cast his crime upon 
Austrian soldiers, as if blood enough were not crying 
to heaven against them ! How rarely do we find such 
a compound of the dregs of humanity labeled with 
such high-sounding titles ! Spy, priest, butcher, cow- 
ard. Archbishop of Thebes, and Nuncio of the Pope to 
the empire of Brazil, taking the United States in his 
way ! ! . 

And what is the moral character of this man ? To 
those who know them, it is enough to say that he is 
an Italian priest with the morals of his order ; and to 
those who know not the lives of the priests in Italy, 
we give in evidence the testimony of his own country- 
men, who say that he was once sent to Brazil as in- 
ternuncio, but was recalled because of his shameless 
dissoluteness. . And this is the man who has been 
consecrating papal bishops and churches among us, 
and blessing the poor people, as if such bloody and un- 
clean hands could be employed to dispense the grace 
and favors of Grod. 

But he came with a letter from the Pope to our 
President, to congratulate him on his accession to the 
presidency, and asking him for his protection of our 
papal citizens ; and with a letter from Antonelli, car- 
dinal secretary of state, to introduce him, and praise 
him, and to ask kind official recognition of him ! Did 
not the Pope know that all men were here equal before 
the law, civilly and religiously ? If he did, what more 



150 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

EflFrontery. Antonelli. A trio. 

could he ask ? If he did not, how dare he to ask from 
us for his behevers what he withholds from our people 
who believe the Bible ? He shuts the English out of 
Rome, and confines them, in their worship, to a barn 
of a place without the walls ; he drives the Americans, 
in their worship, under the flag of their country and to 
the rooms of our legation ; and one of his low, vulgar 
dupes here says that our minister there, if found suc- 
cessful in converting any Romans, would be kicked 
out of the city ; and yet he asks our President for his 
kind protection of his religious vassals ! ! And Anto- 
nelli ! Mr. Cass, the Nestor of the Senate, might know 
all about him, and might have known more about 
Bedini before his recent speech in reference to him. 
There is not in Italy a more cold, brutal, heartless ty- 
rant than Antonelli ; there is not in Rome a more de- 
bauched clerical libertine, if the Romans speak the 
truth. And the man who put down the Roman Re- 
public with French bayonets, and the man who at this 
hour is using all the power of the papal Church to ex- 
tinguish every spark of liberty in Europe, and who is 
sending every Italian patriot on whom he can lay his 
hands to death, dungeons, or banishment, commissions 
the butcher of Bologna to visit our country on his way 
to Brazil, to congratulate our President on his acces- 
sion to the chief magistracy, and to solicit his protec- 
tion of our Roman Catholic fellow-citizens ! "What a 
trio of priestly tyrants, with their feet upon the neck 
and their daggers at the heart of liberty in Europe, 
and seeking liberty for their people here, where all are 
at liberty to worship as they wiU ! What unblushing 



BEDINI, THE PAPAL NUNCIO, GONE. 151 

Questions. Hia errand. The voice of blood. 

effrontery ! Need we wonder that the Grermans and 
Itahans are excited ? 

But what was Bedini's errand here ? "Why call him 
here from the care of the Thebans ? There must be 
some pressing necessity. Why send him round here 
on his way to Brazil ? Antonelli may be able to tell, 
so may Bishop Hughes. "We are left to conjecture. 
There was some little difficulty about church property 
in Buffalo ; the same difficulty exists in other places. 
It is very hard to enforce the canon law here. The 
people here, either by contagion or absorption, imbibe 
some notions as to their rights and privileges which 
priests and bishops find it difficult to manage. Then 
our school laws are papistically wrong ; and multitudes 
of papists, young and old, are forsaking the priest, and 
Mary, and the altar, for the Bible, the Savior, and the 
pulpit. It was thought that a nuncio might set these 
and other things all right. And Bishop Hughes him- 
self is not regarded as the sharpest and wisest at head- 
quarters ; in Rome he is called a blundering Irishman. 
One was selected who had learned the trade of a spy 
in Italy, and who was thought to be able to spy out 
the true causes of the crumbling of Romanism here, 
and the true remedies to prevent it. But his wand 
would not work. He lifted it up, and called for the 
darkness, but it would not come ; and before he got 
half through, Qod gave a tongue to the blood of Ugo 
Bassi, and of the other martyrs of Bologna, which 
proclaimed the character of Bedini through the land ; 
and from that moment the lock of his strength was 
cut, and the heart of the people swelled with detesta- 



152 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The mobs. A change. Where the fox ? Another nuncio. 

tion of the monster ; and the mobs, composed mostly 
of those from papal countries, and who felt the iron of 
tyranny in their souls, in Cincinnati, Baltimore, and 
other places, like the spittings of the volcano, only re- 
vealed the slumbering fires that lay beneath. 

And the man who was toasted in New York — who 
rode in the mayor's carriage — who was feasted at the 
governor's table — who was paraded in the saloons of 
secretaries at Washington, had to pack his vestments 
in a bag — to cover his skull with something that con- 
cealed his tonsure — to steal away to Staten Island, 
and to pass from the deck of a tug to that of a steamer 
for England, to avoid the hootings of the multitudes 
whom the tyranny of papal Europe has driven from 
their homes to our shores ! Did ever any man so go 
up as an eagle, and so come down as a goose ! 

And where is Bishop Hughes at the closing scene, 
who figured so largely in the farce when the curtain 
first rose? The fox, he saw the storm coming — he 
very likely thought Bedini a spy upon himself, as he 
no doubt was — he laid his hand on his side, and gave 
a few coughs, and found it necessary to go to Cuba for 
his health ! Halifax would not do in mid- winter. 

"VYe only want another nuncio on his way to Brazil 
to complete the ruin of popery in this land, which Be- 
dini has so largely promoted. The prestige of popery 
is all gone ; its doctrines, its deceivings, its cunning 
craft, the character of its priests, taken as a clan, the 
most heartless impostors on earth, are all understood. 
The system is in a state of dissolution every where, 
and were it not for the alliance there is between it and 



BEDINI, THE PAPAL NUNCIO, GONE. 153 

How the Romans would vote. A hint to politicians. 

despotism to support one another, it would fall to 
pieces at once. If the free votes of the Romans could 
be taken at this hour, they would vote the Pope, his 
cardinals, bishops, and all the inferior clergy, at least 
to Purgatory, if not a little beyond it. 

And it is fondly to be hoped that our political men 
will soon be made to feel that to court the vote of the 
Romish priest and his people is to forfeit the vote of 
the Protestant. 

We have seen the first and the last nuncio from 
Rome in the United States on his way to Brazil. 

as 



154 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

The great runaway. Things said. 



BEDINI AND DR. DUFF-A CONTRAST. 

Who has not heard of Bedini, the Archbishop of 
Thebes — the Nuncio of the Pope to Brazil, taking the 
United States on his way — ^the spy and butcher of 
Bologna — the Grreat Runaway ! He came here a bad 
man, on a worse mission — a low creature, though a 
high ecclesiastic — with nothing to recommend him 
but his titles and his feathers. In private, he was do- 
ing the work of him that sent him, the Pope ; in pub- 
lic, he was courting the dignitaries of the state and 
the attention of the people. Scared by some demon- 
strations made by his own countrymen and other for- 
eigners to testify their appreciation of his character, 
he passed incog, from Washington to New York. It 
is said that he was concealed some days in the city ; 
but, as the storm was thickening instead of passing 
away, he sent for the mayor, and implored his protec- 
tion. It is said that, moved by his awful terror and 
dread of assassination, the mayor applied to the col- 
lector for a vessel from the revenue service to carry 
him out of the city, but that the collector dechned to 
interfere. It is said that application was made to the 
government for instructions in reference to the Latin 
priest, and that orders were sent to get him away as 
soon as possible, and at public expense. It is known 
that he went incog, to Staten Island ; that on the day 



BEDINI AND DR. DUFF A CONTRAST. 155 

The old tug. True ministers — priests. Stealing away. 

of the sailing of the Atlantic he was sent on board an 
old tug, the most unpretending that could be found, in 
order to avoid suspicion and expense, and placed on 
board the steamer ; and that he took his departure as 
Nuncio from the United States to Rome, taking Eng- 
land on his way. Alas, poor Yorick ! 

If all this does not teach the Pope, and his priests, 
and their dupes a lesson as to the state of American 
feeling, and the sentiment of its free people on the sub- 
ject of Popery, it is difficult to tell what can. It es- 
pecially teaches them that no man, in whose skirts or 
on whose hands can be found a spot made by the blood 
of freemen, slaughtered because of even unwise efforts 
to obtain liberty, need expect to be otherwise treated 
than as a foe to humanity by the free people of this 
land. If the Austrian Haynau could not live in Eng- 
land, how could the Italian Bedini hope to enjoy an 
ovation in the United States ? But he hoped his em- 
broidered vestment, and his pallium, made from " the 
wool of holy sheep," would screen him. But no ; while 
in no country on earth are the true ministers of relig- 
ion more respected than with us, in no country on earth 
are priestly hypocrites more detested. Hence, after his 
character became known, poor Bedini had to cover his 
tonsure, and to hide his long coat, and to put the cru- 
cifix that dangled on his breast in his pocket, and to 
put aside all his priestly regalia, lest they should at- 
tract attention to his person ; and then to steal away 
as a thief from a country where he expected to be hon- 
ored as a prince. And you might as well attempt to 
quell the swellings of the ocean as attempt to prevent 



156^ PARISH PENCILING S. 

Alexander Duff. History. Small beginning. 

the rising of all free hearts against such a man. This 
the mayor of Cincinnati has learned to his cost. But 
he is gone ! "We shall be glad to learn his reception at 
the court of Brazil, now that he has taken the United 
States on his way. 

As the steamer that was conveying Bedini from our 
shores was receding, another steamer might be seen 
approaching them, with a very different man on board. 
That man was Alexander Duff. His history is a brief 
but pregnant one. In his youth he devoted himself to 
G-od and the cause of Missions. He left Scotland, his 
native land, for India in 1829, and was wrecked on the 
rocks of the Cape of Grood Hope, losing every thing but 
his Bible, which was found on the beach where it was 
washed by the waves. Nothing daunted, he sailed 
thence for India, and in a fierce hurricane, peculiar to 
those latitudes, was again wrecked at the mouth of the 
Ganges, and only escaped with his life. He reached 
Calcutta, with his plans all formed, and with the fixed 
resolution to carry them out. If esteemed a fanatic at 
home, when Moderatism, like a mountain of ice, crush- 
ed and chilled the heart of the Church of Scotland, he 
was received with marked coldness by officials abroad. 
One man only encouraged him, and he was a heathen, 
the famous Ramohun Eoy. The young missionary 
hired a small room, and commenced his great work 
with five heathen boys. Such was the small begin- 
ning of the Church of Scotland's Missions in India ! 
That room grew into the famous College of Calcutta, 
now the light of India, and the five boys into fourteen 
hundred pupils. 



BEDINI AND DR. DUFF A CONTRAST. 157 

Sacrifices. Apostle of India. Honor declined. 

On the disruption of the Church of Scotland, the 
missionary decided to go out with the Free Church ; 
and although the college buildings were mainly erect- 
ed through his own individual exertions, he was com- 
pelled to abandon them, to go out empty-handed, and 
to find accommodations as he could for his pupils. But 
when Christ's crown and headship in the Church were 
at stake, he could not hesitate a moment ; and al- 
though not so well accommodated as formerly, that 
college was never so useful or more fully attended than 
now. The great and successful labors of this mission- 
ary in Calcutta are felt in all India, from Ceylon to 
the Himalayas ; they are felt in their reflex influence 
on the entire Church of God. His great mental pow- 
er, his entire consecration, his sleepless industry, his 
wise plans, his perseverance in following them out, 
have enabled him to do in India a work of vast mag- 
nitude, and of the greatest importance ; and although 
under fifty years of age, his name is in all the earth as 
'' the Apostle of India." 

On the death, we might almost say the translation 
of Dr. Chalmers, this missionary was selected to fill 
his place as a professor of divinity in the Free Church 
College, as the man best fitted to. succeed to the chair 
vacated by him who in his life was designated as '' the 
greatest of living Scotchmen." But he declined the 
honor, for the reason that he had consecrated himself 
to the heathen, and desired to live and die among 
them. On his return to Scotland he was elected, by 
acclamation, moderator of the Free Assembly of 1851. 
Since that time, although in feeble health, he has been 



158 PARISH PENCILING S. 

His eloquence. Simplicity. A missionary. 

through Scotland, England, and Ireland, in labors 
abundant, and with a fervid eloquence that has not 
been surpassed, seeking to rouse every branch of the 
Church of Grod to more earnest efforts for the conver- 
sion of the world. The writer of this article heard him, 
on one occasion, pour forth his soul for three hours 
upon the most densely crowded and deeply interested 
audience he ever saw; his appeals now melting the 
entire assembly into tears, and now filling the ample 
building with thundering applause. 

This great missionary, the Rev. Alexander Duff, is 
now in our country. He was landed on our shores 
just as Bedini had left them. He brought with him 
no letters from pope, prince, or prelate. The fame of 
his labors and Christian virtues had preceded him. No 
Antonelli lauds his gifts and his virtues. He needs no 
such doubtfal praise. He is no archbishop of tottering 
pillars, and crumbling walls, and piles of ruins, amid 
which the cormorant and the bittern, the owl and the 
raven hoot, and over which the adder and the serpent 
trail their slime. He comes not here on his way as a 
messenger from a doting tyrant in the Old World to 
some other tyrant in the New. His hair is unshaven 
on his head. He wears no priestly vestments to catch 
vulgar eyes. He is simply a missionary who has spent 
most of his life among the heathen, and who has come 
to tell us of the degradation, and the wants, and the 
rising civilization of India. He is simply a noble, 
self-sacrificing Christian minister, who has come with 
the greetings of Protestant Britain to Protestant Amer- 
ica. Although a Scotchman by birth, we all claim 



BEDINI AND DR. DUFF A CONTRAST. 159 

Passing through the country. His departure. 

him as a fellow-citizen ; although a Presbyterian in 
religion, we all claim him as a fellow- Christian. 

His life and labors are known to the world. He has 
worn himself out in seeking to excite, not to suppress 
free thought — to elevate, not to depress the race ; in 
seeking to teach the world that faith in Christ, not 
faith in the Pope, is the way to heaven. No blood 
cries to heaven against him. No Scotchman will rise 
up save to claim him as a countryman, and to pro- 
claim him '' every inch a man." As he passes through 
the land, no mobs will meet him with effigies ; no 
police will be needed to protect him ; and if he rides 
not in the mayor's carriage — if he sails not in a gov- 
ernment steamer — if he is not feasted in a governor's 
house — if he is not paraded in secretaries' saloons in 
"Washington, he will be welcomed as a Christian phi- 
lanthropist of the highest stamp by every Christian 
man from one end of the Union to the other. 

And when his journeyings are ended, and the time 
for his return to his own land has arrived, he will need 
no protection from mayor or magistrate — ^he will need 
no tug to draw him from his concealment to a steamer 
in the bay, to avoid the hootings of the multitudes that 
would greet him if he went on board at the wharf. "We 
will accompany him to the ship ; we will give him our 
parting blessing, and receive his ; and we will sorrow 
most of all that we shall see his face no more. 



160 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Two characters. The Nuncio. How treated. 



BEDINI AND DUFF-ANOTHER CONTRAST. 

Within a few months past our country has been vis- 
ited "by two persons, each celebrated in his way, and 
creating no Httle excitement, and each the represent- 
ative of systems and principles as diverse as the noon 
of night and the noon of day. The one was the cele- 
brated Monsieur G-aetano Bedini, Archbishop of Thebes, 
Apostolic Nuncio to Brazil, taking the United States on 
his way, and so forth, and so forth. He came with 
high-sounding titles ; with letters from the Pope, and 
his secretary, Antonelli, lauding his talents and his 
virtues ; dressed in full regalia, as brilliant as the plu- 
mage of the strutting peacock. These things took for 
a time with that stratum of humanity with which 
such things take, and the creature, thus dressed up in 
names and in vestments, was paraded here and there 
as quite a character. And such he certainly was — 
and is, if he yet survives his fright on leaving our 
shores. The passage of this magnificent ecclesiastic 
through portions of our country is yet familiar to all 
our people. To make political capital with those who 
regard the character and blessings of such a harlequin, 
politicians, here and there, treated him with some ex- 
ternal marks of respect. But when his true character 
was made known by those Italians who sought here 
an asylum from papal cruelty ; when the cry of the 



BE DIN I AND DUFF ANOTHER CONTRAST. 161 

The storm. Hegira. The tug. Smuggling. 

blood of the murdered Ugo Bassi, and of those who fell 
with him as martyrs to liberty in Bologna, proclaimed 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific that Bedini was their 
executioner, it was all over with the tonsured nuncio. 
The storm commenced on the banks of the Ohio ; it 
followed him across the Alleghanies to Washington, 
Baltimore, and New York. Finding that the "Yen- 
eratissimo" John, of New York, had retired from the 
track of the storm to Cuba, under plea of health, he 
concealed himself as he could, in secluded parts of the 
city, until the plan of his hegira was completed. A 
day or two previous to the sailing of a steamer for 
England, a few men, muffled, and looking suspiciously 
around, might be seen crossing to Staten Island, where 
they were hidden away by some friend, as were the 
spies of Joshua in Jericho by Rahab. On the morning 
of the sailing of the steamer, an old " tug" might be 
seen pressing its way to an adjacent wharf. As it put 
forth no pretensions to. be a boat for passengers, no 
decent person thought of noticing it. As the noble 
steamer fired her signal guns for departure, the muffled 
gentry made their way to the tug, which swung from 
her moorings as soon as they stepped on board. She 
paddled into the stream ; Bedini was smuggled on 
board the steamer ; and thus he passed away from our 
shores amid appalling fears and terrors, which made 
the little hair left by the priestly razor on his head to 
stiffen into straight lines, and without a solitary being 
to bid him farewell. We take it for granted that his 
priestly attendants were rejoiced to get rid of him. 
It is said that when he got fairly on board, he com- 



162 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The crucifix. Famous letter. A papal prayer. 

menced most devoutly kissing a crucifix; and that 
when he got quietly seated, he read his Missal with 
race-horse rapidity. When, during the voyage, the 
winds of February rolled up the waves of the Atlantic 
into stormy billows, it is said he manifested great ter- 
ror; and, when he got safely to London, he wrote 
back for our edification the famous letter of February 
17th, to the Archbishop of Baltimore, in which he 
seems to weep with rage, to pray like Lucifer, to laugh 
like a hyena, to deny alleged charges so as to prove 
them, and which, after gravely informing us that he 
sent " a number of pictures of the Blessed Virgin of 
Rimini," " the portentous moving of whose pupils" 
has rendered it '' a picture so blessed and so full of ce- 
lestial inspiration," he offers the following prayer to 
''the blessed Lady of Rimini:" ''0 may this most 
powerful mother of the God- Man console with her ce- 
lestial glance so many of her children who will seek 
in her maternal heart the fountain of so many graces, 
and may she in so many others also, who, bathed in 
the Wood of her Son, still obstinately refuse to call her 
their mother, work not the less rare prodigy of opening 
their eyes." This letter should be preserved in every 
museum of the world as a fair specimen of the litera- 
ture of the Roman priesthood — of the progress of the 
Italian mind — of the animus of papal ecclesiastics, and 
as the most wonderful sample of unadulterated balder- 
dash which this age has produced. "With this famous 
letter poor Bedini has disappeared from view; but 
whether he has gone to Thebes, or has taken some 
other route to Brazil, or whether he is stirring up the 



BEDINI AND DUFF ANOTHER CONTRAST. 163 

One thing known. A missionary. His errand. 

Holy Father to seek redress for his " discourteous and 
insulting treatment," which was sufficient to cause 
" any nation to descend a thousand degrees in the scale 
of its dignity," is not known. Only one thing is cer- 
tain, we shall not soon again see the like of Monsieur 
Archbishop Graetano Bedini. 

Such was one of the celehrated characters to whom 
I have above alluded. He came, and he has gone ; 
hut the telling lesson of his coming and going remain. 

The other character by whom we have been visited, 
and who has created no small excitement, is Alexan- 
der DufF, a simple, untitled Scotchman ; a devoted 
Presbyterian minister ; for nearly a quarter of a cen- 
tury a most successful missionary in India ; and with 
nothing but his own high moral character and great 
eloquence to arrest attention. He came on the earnest 
entreaty of a noble-hearted merchant,* without any 
blood on his hands, and simply as a G-ospel minister. 
He came without any letters from men of high name 
to men in high places. He needed none. And from 
his first appearance in public to the last, thousands 
thronged to hear him, and thousands were unable to 
press within the sound of his voice. He had no masses 
to mutter ; his message to all was the simple Gospel, 
whether spoken in the Capitol of the nation, or upon 
the banks of the Hudson, or the Ohio, or the St. Law- 
rence. He had no schemes of darkness to carry out — 
no earthly master to serve or to laud. He would en- 
throne Jesus amid the nations and in the hearts of all 
men ; and from New York to "Washington, and thence 

* George H. Stuart, Esq., of Philadelphia. 



164 PARISH PENCILING S. 



Anniversary week. A morning scene. 



by Pittsburg and Cincinnati to St. Louis, and thence 
by Chicago and Detroit to and through the Canadas, 
and by the way of Boston back again to New York, his 
route has been a constant ovation. Every where he 
was hailed at his coming and blessed at his departing 
by all good men. 

The last week of his sojourn among us was the busy 
week of our religious anniversaries. Who that heard 
him at the Missionary Convention, before the Christian 
Union, the Tract and Bible Societies, before the Pres- 
byterian or the American Board of Foreign Missions, 
can ever forget the thrilling eloquence and the apostol- 
ical zeal with which he urged the various tribes of Is- 
rael to go up and to possess the land. Nor were his 
words finely arranged for the occasion, and elegantly 
delivered, falling upon the audience like snow-flakes 
upon the running stream, and forgotten by speaker and 
hearer at the close of the service. They were words 
from the heart, which all felt, and which will never be 
forgotten. They were nails driven into a sure place. 
He there scattered seed broadcast which will bear 
fruit long after he has fallen to sleep on the banks of 
the G-anges. 

The morning of his departure was one of thrilling 
interest. He was the guest of Robert L. Stuart, Esq., 
who entertained him and his friends with princely hos- 
pitality. There, surrounded by the family of his host, 
and a few of his more intimate friends, he led in the 
morning prayer — a scene never to be forgotten. After 
attending to a few items of business, he went with his 
friends to a meeting for prayer in the church of the 



BEDINI AND DUFF ANOTHER CONTRAST. 165 

The prayer-meeting. The crowd. His departure. 

Rev. Mr. Thomson. The church was nearly filled with 
ministers and people. The services were closed by Dr. 
Duff in a few simple, sublime words of farewellj and 
with the benediction ; and such was the throng to 
shake his hand in a responsive farewell, that with dif- 
ficulty he could enter the carriage that was to con- 
vey him to the steamer. But the scene at the steamer 
defies description. The wharf and the noble Pacific 
were crowded with clergymen and Christians, assem- 
bled to bid him adieu. Many could only take him by 
the hand, weep, and pass on. Never did any man 
leave our shores so entirely encircled with Christian 
sympathy and affection. All felt that that was to be 
a final adieu, and they mourned most of all that they 
should see his face no more. 

"When ordered to the wharf from the steamer, the 
people sought every point where they could catch a 
last glimpse of him. As the noble boat slowly but ma- 
jestically moved from her berth, not a word was ut- 
tered. Some held up a white handkerchief — some 
waved a hat; but not a word was uttered! The 
swelling emotions of all forbade applause or utterance. 
We looked as long as we could discern his countenance, 
and then turned away, praying to Heaven that his voy- 
age homeward and then eastward might be as safe and 
prosperous as his visit here had been popular and useful. 
No such man has visited us since the days of Whit- 
field. And as, amid waving hats and handkerchiefs, 
and the flowing tears of many, the majestic Pacific 
moved out from her dock, many exclaimed, What a 
contrast is this with the departure of Bedini ! 



166 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The true key-note. A synonym. 

Dr. Duff has come and he has gone ; and the teUing 
lessons of his coming and of his going remain. And 
the coming and the departure of these two men, Be- 
dini and Duff, give the true key-note to Popery and 
Protestantism, as they are regarded by the people of 
the United States. A few more Bedinis and winking 
Madonnas of Rimini, and Popery will be the synonym 
of absurdity. 



THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 167 

The true idea of him. First interview. 



THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D.D. 

A LETTER TO A FRIEND. 

My dear Sir, — The true idea of Dr. Archibald Alex- 
ander must he ever confined to those Vi^ho knew him, 
and who were capable of appreciating his character ; 
and that idea, even with such, like the idea of the true 
or the beautiful, is more easily felt than expressed. 
You ask me to give you my idea of him. It is impos- 
sible for me to transfer it to paper just as it lies en- 
shrined in my own mind ; but for the sake of those 
who never saw or knew him, and who may desire a 
portrait of the man, I will make the attempt to com- 
ply with your request. 

My first sight of the man and interview with him 
was in the month of November, 1826. My first feel- 
ing was that of disappointment. He was small of 
stature, rather slender in person, negligent in dress, 
rather reserved in company, and with a voice in con- 
versation pitched on a higher key than ordinary, and 
rather inclining to a squeak. Having just passed from 
under the tuition of Dr. Griffin, the contrast between 
my past and future teacher was too great not to be 
felt at the moment. He placed me, however, by his 
kind and cordial manner, soon at ease ; and as he was 
reading my introductions and papers, I sought, as well 



168 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Appearance described. First sermon. Truly great. 

as I could, to read his person and countenance. I soon 
concluded that his broad and strongly-marked forehead, 
his dark and penetrating eye, his brief but comprehen- 
sive questions, his rapid conceptions, meant something ; 
and I left his room deeply interested and impressed by 
the interview. On the next Sabbath, in the afternoon, 
I heard him, for the first time, preach in the oratory 
of the seminary. He spoke sitting in his chair. He 
read a passage of Scripture, and then, as was his man- 
ner, raising his spectacles from his eyes to his head, he 
commenced talking. His voice was peculiar, and his 
manner ; his matter was simple. As he progressed, I 
became interested — absorbed. Although seated in the 
middle of the room, and in the midst of students, I 
thought he was preaching to me, and reveahng the 
very secrets of my heart ; and as his penetrating eye 
glanced from seat to seat, I instinctively shrunk be- 
hind the person that sat before me, in order to avoid 
his reading me through and through. That first ser- 
mon I have never forgotten. As a preacher to the 
conscience and to the experience of men, I have never 
known or read of his superior. While under his in- 
structions, my esteem grew into respect, my respect 
into love, and my love into admiration of the man ; 
and my intercourse with him in subsequent years, on 
more equal terms, and on a wider platform than that 
of a student, has left the impression on my heart, that 
in all the elements of true greatness the Church of 
Christ has had but few such ministers. 

" What makes you think Dr. Alexander a great 
man ?" said rather a captious minister to me one day. 



THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 169 
A question and answer. Combinations. Policy. 

" That is a question I never thought of," was my re- 
ply. And the question was a natural one for persons 
to ask who hut occasionally saw him, and who heard 
him hut occasionally preach. He was not eloquent, 
like Chalmers and Eobert Hall ; he was not learned, 
like Bentley and Person ; he was not polished to cold 
elegance, like Blair, nor into crimson gorgeousness, like 
Melville ; nor was his a courtly polish of manner in 
public or in private, which often makes weak men 
quite impressive. In what, then, you will ask, con- 
sisted that emphatic character which so deeply im- 
pressed itself upon all who ever knew him, and, in- 
deed, upon his age ? In a rare combination of char- 
acteristics, so nicely blended as to conceal each other, 
and as yet to make an almost perfect whole. 

He was a man, if not of various, of solid learning. 
To this all his students and his works testify. He was 
a child of nature in all his habits ; in his modes of 
thought, in his manner of expression, in his tones of 
voice, in his gestures, in his keen wit, in his occasional 
sarcasms, in his very laugh, he was perfectly natural. 
It would seem as if the idea of doing a thing genteelly, 
or according to rule, or for effect, was never before 
him. This was one of the highest charms of his char- 
acter. He was a man of godly sincerity. He had no 
concealed ends — no hidden plans to produce future re- 
sults. He manifested all that he felt. In an inter- 
course with him, of more or less frequency, for twenty- 
five years, some of which was confidential, I have 
never known him to advocate policy. His was the 
most simple-hearted piety ; he read the Bible like a 
H 



170 PARISH PENCILING S. 

His faith. Sympathizing heart. Memorable visit. 

child, and he exercised a simple faith in all it taught 
and promised. There was no effort to explain away 
its doctrines, or to modify its principles by the teach- 
ings of philosophy, falsely so called. He was a meta- 
physician, and yet all the metaphysics and German 
mysticism upon earth weighed not a feather with him 
against one simple text of Scripture fairly interpreted. 
His mind and heart were imbued with divine truth, 
and his experience of its power was rich and ripe. He 
had a sympathizing heart ; no person ever resorted to 
him in vain for counsel or aid. He entered into your 
circumstances, and feelings, and soon felt as you felt. 
Indeed, T have known his sympathies produce in him 
a nervous excitement, so as greatly to interrupt his 
comfort. He knew when to speak and when to be 
silent. It was in the month of January, 1842, he 
came to my bereaved family to bury one of our chil- 
dren, the second taken from us within a few days. He 
sat by my side without saying a word for some time ; 
at length, breaking the silence, he uttered this mem- 
orable expression : "I have not come to comfort you, 
my friend ; the Lord only can comfort you ;" and again 
a long silence ensued. After the emotions excited by 
our first meeting subsided, the conversation became 
natural, and on his part instructive and greatly com- 
forting. He was a preacher of the rarest excellence ; 
natural, scriptural, pungent, experimental, and, at 
times, overwhelming in his application of truth to the 
saint and to the sinner. Nor had he lost any of his 
interest down to old age. The last address I ever 
heard from him was made to the Synod of New Jersey, 



THE REV. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 171 

Last address. Death. Burial. 

at its meeting in Elizabethtown in 1850, and I never 
heard a better one, or one that more deeply interested 
his crowded audience. As a professor of theology, he 
was able, discriminating, sound in the faith, and most 
ardently attached to the great doctrines of grace ; and 
as a teacher, he was as a father to his pupils. Their 
location, their joys and their sorrows, their failures and 
successes, seemed all known to him ; their names 
seemed ever before him, and he never met them but 
with paternal emotions. His death was just Hke his 
life — calm, natural, collected, and pleasant. None 
would have it, indeed, otherwise. There was no pain 
of body — no anxiety of mind — no fears as to the 
Church. His family was all around him. The Synod 
of New Jersey was in session. His beloved seminary 
was flourishing. " My work," said he, "is done, and 
it is best I should go home." And he went home. 
And the Synod of New Jersey, and many ministers 
from other synods, and from distant places, carried 
him to his burial. 

" The Lord reigneth ; let the earth rejoice." 



172 PARISH PENCILING S. 



His person. Manners. Preacher. 



REV. SAMUEL MILLER, D.D. 

LAST INTERVIEAV. 

Among the most polished, popular, and learned min- 
isters that have adorned the American Church, was the 
Rev. Dr. Samuel Miller. In stature of the medium 
size, formed v^ith remarkable symmetry, v^ith mild 
blue eye, bald head, high forehead, and a countenance 
remarkably bland and prepossessing, he immediately 
commanded the respect of all w^ith whom he came in 
contact. His politeness was such as to gain for him 
the American sobriquet of the American Chesterfield ; 
his affability was such as to attract even the fondling 
attention of children ; so ready was he in conversation, 
and so full of anecdote, as to make him the attractive 
centre of every circle which he graced with his pres- 
ence ; and so wise and prudent was he withal, that his 
advice and counsels were sought by his brethren and 
by the churches as if he were an oracle. In his youth 
he was greatly popular as a preacher, and down to the 
close of his long life was remarkably solemn and in- 
structive. Thoroughly evangelical and devotedly pi- 
ous, his ministrations were sought beyond those of al- 
most any of his contemporaries. He was a man of 
varied learning, of retentive memory ; was a graceful, 
easy, and polished writer, and, to as great an extent 
as almost any man of his day, enjoyed both an Amer- 
ican and European reputation. He was a voluminous 



DR. MILLER LAST INTERVIEW. 173 

Professor. Characteristics. Historical Society. 

author, an able controvertist, a fine ecclesiastical his- 
torian, and an able and beloved professor in the The- 
ological Seminary at Princeton, from its foundation to 
the close of his long and brilliant life. Dignified with- 
out haughtiness, condescending without descending, 
affable without garrulity, polite without the. cold cor- 
rectness which chills, firm in his opinions without big- 
otry, catholic without any approach to latitudinarian- 
ism, and remarkably generous in all his sympathies, 
he made even his enemies to be at peace with him, 
and embalmed his memory in the hearts of all good 
men ; and the hundreds of students that enjoyed his 
instructions as a professor, while they reverenced him 
as a teacher, loved him as a father. 

The Historical Society of New Jersey met at Prince- 
ton, now a place of patriotic, and classic, and sacred 
associations. It was a noble gathering of men distin- 
guished in their various professions as jurists, advo- 
cates, professors, and divines ; and there was a most 
cordial greeting and commingling of these historic as- 
sociates. All differences in sentiments, professions, and 
politics were laid aside while in the pursuit of the one 
common object of honoring New Jersey by collecting 
materials for its history, and to rescue from oblivion 
the names of her many heroic and distinguished sons. 

But one was absent who had rarely been absent be- 
fore, and who was one of the founders and vice-presi- 
dents of the society ; one whose bland and polished 
manners always attracted regard, and whose venerable 
aspect always deeply impressed. His absence from 
the meeting, and in the town of his residence, excited 



174 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The scene in the study. His appearance. 

inquiry ; and when it was announced that Dr. Miller 
was very seriously sick, there was in the meeting a 
deep expression of sorrow and sympathy. It was sol- 
emnly felt by all that in those historic gatherings we 
should see his face no more. 

His son conveyed to me a message from his father 
that he would like to see me on the morning of the 
next day, if convenient. The hour of our interview 
was fixed ; and, as other engagements required punc- 
tuality, I was there at the moment. 

But, as the barber had just entered the room, he 
was not quite ready to see me, and he sent request- 
ing me to wait half an hour. This my other engage- 
ments absolutely forbade ; and on sending him word 
to that effect, he invited me to his room. As I entered 
it, the picture which presented itself was truly impress- 
ive. The room was his library, where he had often 
counseled, cheered, and instructed me. There, bolster- 
ed in a chair, feeble, wan, and haggard, was my former 
teacher and friend, one half of his face shaven, with 
the soap on the other half, and the barber standing be- 
hind his chair. The old sweet smile of welcome play- 
ed upon his face, and having received his kind hand 
and greetings, he requested me to take a seat by his 
side. His message was a brief one ; he had written a 
history of the Theological Seminary for the Historical 
Society which was not yet printed, and he wished an 
unimportant error into which he thought he had fallen 
to be corrected ; and that there might be no mistake, 
he wished me to write it down, thus showing his rul- 
ing passion for even verbal accuracy. When his ob- 



DR. MILLER — LAST INTERVIEW. 175 

The address. The prayer. 

ject in sending for me was gained, lie then, in a most 
composed and intensely solemn manner, thus addressed 
me: 

" My dear brother, my sands are almost run, and 
this will be, probably, our last interview on earth. Our 
intercourse, as professor and pupil, and as ministers, 
has been one of undiminished affection and confidence. 
I am just finishing my course ; and my only regrets 
are that I have not served my precious Master more 
fervently, sincerely, and constantly. "Were I to live 
my life over again, I would seek more than I have 
done to know nothing but Christ. The burdens that 
some of us have borne in the Church will now devolve 
upon you and your brethren ; see to it that you bear 
them better than we have done, and with far greater 
consecration ; and as this will, no doubt, be our last 
interview here, it will be well to close it with prayer. 
As I am too feeble to kneel, you will excuse me if I 
keep my chair." 

I drew my chair before him, and knelt at his feet. 
The colored barber laid aside his razor and brush, and 
knelt by his side. As he did not indicate which of us 
was to lead in prayer, I inferred, because of his feeble- 
ness, that it would be right for me to do so ; and while 
seeking to compose my own mind and feelings to the 
effort, I was relieved by hearing his own sweet, feeble, 
melting accents. His prayer was brief, but unuttera- 
bly touching and impressive. He commenced it by 
thanksgiving to God for his great mercy in calling us 
into the fellowship of the saints, and then calling us 
into the ministry of his Son, He then gave thanks 



176 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Fervent supplications. The effect. 

that we ever sustained to one another the relation of 
pupil and teacher, and for our subsequent pleasant in- 
tercourse as ministers of the G-ospel. He thanked God 
for the many years through which he permitted him 
to live, and for any good which he enabled him to do. 
"And now, Lord," said he, "seeing that thine aged, 
imperfect servant is about being gathered to his fa- 
thers, let his mantle fall upon thy young servant, and 
for more of the Spirit of Christ than he has ever en- 
joyed. Let the years of thy servant be as the years 
of his dying teacher ; let his ministry be more devoted, 
more holy, more useful; and when he comes to die, 
may he have fewer regrets to make in reference to his 
closing ministrations. "We are to meet no more on 
earth ; but when thy servant shall follow his aged fa- 
ther to the grave, may we meet in heaven, there to sit, 
and shine, and sing with those who have turned many 
to righteousness, who have washed their robes and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Amen." 
I arose from my knees, melted as is wax before the 
fire. My full heart sealed my lips. Through my flow- 
ing tears I took my last look of my beloved teacher, 
the counselor of my early ministry, the friend of my 
ripening years, and one of the most lovely and loved 
ministers with which Grod has ever blessed the Church. 
Every thing impressed me : the library, his position, 
the barber ; his visage, once full and fresh, now sallow 
and sunken ; his great feebleness, his faithfulness, his 
address, and, above all, that prayer, never, never to be 
foro^otten ! He extended his emaciated hand from un- 
der the white cloth that draped from his breast to his 



DR. MILLER LAST INTERVIEW. 177 

The funeral gathering. Burial. 

knees, and, taking mine, gave me his parting, his last 
benediction. That address — that prayer — that bless- 
ing, have made enduring impressions. It v^as the 
most solemn and instructive last interview of my life. 

When I next saw him he was sleeping in his coffin 
in the front parlor of his house, where he often, with 
distinguished urbanity and hospitality, entertained, 
instructed, and delighted his friends. That parlor was 
crowded by distinguished strangers, and by many of 
his former pupils, who mourned for him as for a fa- 
ther — for a father he was to them all. And as they 
passed around to take a parting sight of his counte- 
nance, from which even death cqjild not remove its 
accustomed placid, benevolent smile, their every bosom 
heaved with intense emotion, their eyes were suffused 
with tears ; and could every tongue utter the emotions 
of their hearts, it would be in the language of Elisha 
when he gazed on Elijah ascending before him unto 
heaven, '' My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, 
and the horsemen thereof." 

His death was as calm and triumphant as his life 
was pure, disinterested, and lovely ; and as pious men 
carried him to his burial, and as we covered up his re- 
mains under the clods of the valley, the prayer arose 
at least from one heart, "May I live the life of this 
righteous man, and let my last end be like his." 

There are many scenes in the life of Dr. Miller that 
memory frequently recalls — scenes in the class-room, 
in the General Assembly, in the Synod of New Jersey, 
in the pulpit, in the social party — scenes which occur- 
red during the conflicts of parties, and in the frank and 

H2 



178 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The parting scene recalled. 

unrestrained intercourse of social life. In them all 
Dr. Miller was pre-eminently like himself. But the 
scene by which I most love to recall him, and which 
memory most frequently recalls, is that parting scene 
in his study. Oh, may that parting prayer he an- 
swered \^ 

* Written for a forthcoming work of the Rev. Dr. Sprague. 



AN ELDER INDEED. 179 

A pious man a blessing. An elder. 



AN ELDER INDEED. 

A KIND, intelligent J firm, pious, peace-making, pray- 
erful man is a great blessing to a church. Even when 
in a low social position, he grows into great influence ; 
but when in the position to which education and wealth 
can elevate, he becomes a pillar in the Church, and 
his influence is felt for good on all its members and in- 
terests. To a young pastor he is a gift of God. With 
such a man as a counselor and friend, the minister who 
is just putting on the harness will be safely guided 
through many difficult cases ; his fiery zeal will be re- 
pressed — ^his errors will be excused — ^his hours of de- 
spondency will be cheered by kind interferences — ^he 
will be comforted amid the discouragements which are 
often so trying to the faith of the youthful embassador 
for Christ. Such a man I found in the eldership of 

the Church of B , who was only a comfort to me 

from the day of our first acquaintance until the day of 
his death. He was an elder worthy of double honor ; 
and the peculiar traits of his character are worthy of 
being held up for universal imitation. 

He was born in the year 1789, and before the com- 
munity, or country, had time to recover from the ef- 
fects of the war of the Revolution. Without any pat- 
rimony, he was left an orphan in his youth, both his 
parents dying within a few months of one another. 



180 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Early life. His positions. Cornmoii sense. 

He was thus a child of Providence almost from his in- 
fancy. In the town of Newark, and while yet a youth, 
he became hopefully pious, under the ministry of the 
Rev. Dr. G-riffin. Although nothing like levity had 
ever marked his conduct, he now became deeply seri- 
ous and thoughtful, and sought to supply the deficien- 
cies of his earlier education by devoting his evenings 
to study, reading, and religious things. When his com- 
panions, many of whom went before him to unwept 
graves, were out in carousal, he was at the meeting for 
prayer or for conference, or at home in his room, seek- 
ing to store his mind with useful knowledge. This 
course obtained for him the confidence of his employ- 
ers, and the respect of all his companions. Early in 
his married life he returned to his native town, and be- 
came a member of our Church in the year 1815, and 
of which, for thirty-eight years, he has been a consistent 
and devoted member. For several years he followed 
his profession of daily toil. As he became known to 
the people, he won their confidence. He was for sev- 
eral years an alderman of the borough, and a justice 
of the peace, and a collector of the township, and dep- 
uty mayor. In the year 1831 he was elected a ruling 
elder, and in 1834 a deacon of the Church, in both 
which capacities he served until his sudden removal 
from the midst of us. 

The leading characteristic of this man was common 
sense ; and this went very far to supply all the defects 
of education. It was apparent in the formation of his 
opinions — in the expression of theni' — in his plans and 
arrangements — ^and in the utter absence of pretension^ 



AN ELDER INDEED. 181 

Tolerant. As a politician. Gentle. 

even when his influence was strongest. He weighed 
matters and subjects ; he was cool and collected ; and 
when his opinions were formed upon subjects which he 
could comprehend, there was but little need of revising 
or changing them ; and as he usually kept within the 
range of such subjects, his opinions were always re- 
spected even by those who differed from him. 

And while firm in his own opinions, he was remark- 
ably tolerant of the opinions of others. It is frequently 
the case that men of narrow education and strong 
sense are very dogmatical; and when they acquire 
money, offensively arrogant. The very opposite was 
the character of our friend. He could modify his opin- 
ions for reasons ; but, while he tenaciously held his 
own, he was tolerant of adverse opinions ; and where 
conscience was not interfered with, when outvoted, he 
turned round and worked with his brethren. 

While in political and civil life he mingled much 
with his fellow-men, he was an honest politician and 
an upright magistrate. He was not of those who 
thought the country ruined when his party did not 
succeed, and who, to carry their point, think all things 
fair. He would rather be right than successful, and 
in the use of honest means could bear to be defeated ; 
and, save by those who felt themselves condemned by 
his integrity, or defeated by his influence, we have 
never heard his civil life reproached. To the extent 
of our knowledge, it is without spot. 

It is very rarely that we see gentleness and firmness 
combined to the same extent as they were in his case. 
His tones, especially among the afflicted, were gentle 



182 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Calmness. Firmness. Fatherless and widows. 

as those of woman. So great was his sympathy as 
often to overcome him. He was pleasant and accom- 
modating to a remarkable degree. It seemed almost 
impossible to excite him to passion ; and what others 
would interpret as an insult, he would pleasantly turn 
off with a smile. These are usually the characteristics 
of a person easily decoyed from his object and turned 
from his purpose ; but in the case of our friend, they 
were connected with a firmness of purpose which yield- 
ed not. You might abuse or flatter, but he was firm. 
Like the well-constructed arch, the heavier the press- 
ure, the firmer he became. You might reason, or 
scold, or abuse, he might or might not be silent ; and 
when you hoped you had moved him, he was only 
drawing reasons from your conduct for increased firm- 
ness. Such a man in this shuffling age, when men 
have sails to catch all winds, is as a stream of water 
in the desert, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
land. I always knew just where to find him. He 
was a true man, and as kind as true. 

His sympathy for the fatherless and widow in their 
affliction was a leading trait of his character, and in 
his case seemed to be a special gift of G-od. How 
many a widow have I heard bless him ; and to how 
many an orphan has he been a father ! His own house 
has been the home of the orphan, and who, because of 
his kindness, never knew the want of a father. He 
did not wait to be sought for by the widow, he sought 
them out. He strove to infuse the comforts of religion 
into their desolate hearts ; and, when necessary, with 
true liberahty, to supply their temporal wants from his 



AN ELDER INDEED. 183 

As an elder. Simple piety. 

own purse. He had his regular rounds among these, 
which were seldom neglected, until the hand of disease 
was laid upon him. It was a part of his religion to 
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, as 
well as to keep himself unspotted from the world. 

As an elder of the Church, but few, save his pastor, 
can estimate his worth. His uniform kindness, his 
practical wisdom, his gentleness toward the erring, his 
firmness when requisite, his peculiar talent as a peace- 
maker between brethren, his aptness in family visita- 
tion, his intelligent firmness as a Presbyterian, his thor- 
ough, though quiet opposition to all fanaticism and 
folly, entitled him to the double honor of those who 
rule well . Within the last twenty-five years the Church 
has been more disturbed with new doctrines and meas- 
ures, with new and ephemeral modes of reformation, 
than for a century previous; and in reference to all 
this class of things, I know not of a solitary instance 
in which he swerved for a moment from the good old 
ways. We have had our own differences of opinion as 
to the propriety of certain measures among ourselves, 
but I have never known him for a moment to set up 
his will against those of his brethren, or to turn for a 
moment from the course which promised to promote 
the future welfare of the Church. He was just such 
an elder as would be a comfort to any minister, and a 
blessing to any Church. 

But, after all, his simple, unfeigned piety was the 
basis of his entire character. He remembered his 
Creator in the days of his youth ; and he grew up from 
the blade to the ear, and onward to the full corn in the 



184 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Prayerful spirit. The painful request. Assurance. 

ear. His views of truth were settled ; he beHeved 
truth to practice it ; he had a full conception of what 
a profession of Christianity required, and he sought to 
live accordingly. He was a man of prayer in private, 
in his family, in public. None could hear him pray 
without feeling that the secret of the Lord was with 
him ; and never was I more affected than when, after 
the paralysis which unfitted him for many duties for 
two or three years, he said to me, "Do not call upon 
me to pray ; I have the heart to pray, but my memory 
fails, and the Lord has taken away my tongue." 

His religious experience 'was in full keeping with 
his life. It was free from all sudden alternations. It 
was never up to burning heat, nor down to the freez- 
ing point. His growth in grace was steady, and, 
like many living springs, very much unaffected by 
spiritual drought or by spiritual showers. For years 
that are past he possessed the comfort of the full as- 
surance of faith ; and while he mourned over his sins, 
he could say, " I know in whom I have believed, and 
that he will keep that which I have committed unto 
him." 

"When death came, it found him as a shock of corn 
fully ripe to be gathered into the garner. He was 
walking about the streets in the morning ; he returned 
to the sick-bed of his dying wife, with whom he had 
a deeply solemn interview, which proved to be their 
last on earth ; deeply affected, he went to his bed to 
rest, where he was seized with apoplexy before noon, 
and without struggle, and probably without feeling the 
pain of dying, a little after the setting of the evening's 



AN ELDER INDEED. 185 

Deatli. A hero. Heroes in all places. 

sun, the silver cord was loosed, and the spirit returned 
to the G-od that gave it. 

" So fades a summer cloud away, 

So sinks the gale when storms arc o'er ; 
So gently shuts the eye of day, 
So dies a wave along the shore." 

This elder v^as not a great man, nor a polished man, 
nor a learned man. He was never ambitious of char- 
acter which he did not possess. He went in and out 
as a plain, simple, unostentatious citizen, as he was. 
There was nothing in his dress, or address, or appear- 
ance, to arrest the attention of the stranger. "We claim 
for him no perfection, nor do we hold the doctrine. But 
his moral principles were strong; his moral virtues 
were of the highest order ; his piety was deep and af- 
fectionate ; and attachment to the right and true was 
the law of his life. He was a hero in his way and 
place. And having filled the orbit in which he moved 
with light ; having performed honestly and manfully the 
duties which were given him to do ; having fought the 
good fight of faith for nearly fifty years without faint- 
ing or weariness, and having gone to the grave with- 
out spot or blemish upon his name, we are as willing 
to crown him as if he fell a general on the victorious 
field of battle — as if, like Adams, Calhoun, or Clay, he 
died in his senatorial robes. There are heroes in low 
places as in high, in private as in public life ; and it 
is promotive of the moral virtues in all the ranks of 
life, that wherever a true hero falls, willing hands should 
be always found ready to bind the victor's wreath upon 
his brow. 



186 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Piety of woman. Her place in Jewish history. 



MARY MAGDALENE. 

The Bible contains many brilliant narratives of the 
piety and of the faith of woman. If first in transgres- 
sion, she has never been last in the works of faith and 
labor of love. Nobly has she labored under both dis- 
pensations, and in every age, to erase from the earth 
the traces of the curse of which she was to so great a 
degree the cause. In that brilliant chapter of the 
Epistle to the Hebrews, in which Paul so eloquently 
depicts the power of faith, we find the name of Sarah 
on the same roll with that of Enoch, Noah, and Abra- 
ham ; and that of Rahab with those of Moses, and Jo- 
seph, and Joshua, and Grideon, and Samuel, and David. 
And may it not be that it was in a wise deference to 
Eastern feeling as to woman that he omits the names 
of Rachel, and Jochebed, and Hannah, and Esther, and 
Ruth, and Deborah, and Abigail, and the women of 
Shunem, when he crowds into such a glorious galaxy 
the names of so many men, whose faith was no more 
illustrious than theirs ? "Woman illustrates every page 
of Jewish history by her courage, fortitude, and faith. 

And such also is the fact as to the New Testament 
history. Commencing with Mary, the mother of our 
Lord, what a remarkable display of faith, fidehty, and 
heroic devotion do we find in the females connected 



MARY MAGDALENE. 187 

Woman in the New Testament. Mary Magdalene. 

with the history of Christ and his apostles, and with the 
collecting and planting of the first churches ! Every 
where kind and attentive to the Savior ; every where 
sitting under his teaching ; along the whole track of 
his public ministry seeking from him cures for their 
sick with characteristic earnestness ; last at the cross, 
first at the grave ; every where the helpers of the 
apostles in their arduous labors, the Christian Scrip- 
tures bear the most emphatic testimony to the heroism 
of their faith. And, perhaps, in all the Bible there is 
not a woman whose faith and piety shine more brightly 
than do those of Mary Magdalene, whose simple and 
beautiful history, as drawn by the ^^ beloved disciple," 
we have in the 20th chapter of the G-ospel of St. John. 

To a brief history of this woman, and a brief state- 
ment of the lessons which it teaches, we now invite 
the attention of our readers. 

She is called Magdalene, because she resided in the 
little village of Magdala, which lay on the shore of the 
Sea of Tiberias, where, it is said, she was a plaiter of 
hair for vain and wicked women. So great a sinner 
was she, that she is said to have been possessed by 
''seven devils," which were cast out by the Savior. 
This some interpret literally ; others figuratively, as 
expressive of her great sinfulness and forgiveness. She 
was doubtless the woman who, in the house of Simon, 
the Pharisee, washed the feet of Jesus with her tears, 
and wiped them with the hair of her head. Simon 
thought that the admission of her to such familiarity 
was an evidence either that the Savior knew not her 
character, or that he was not sufficiently strict in his 



188 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Attendance on Christ. Embalming. Love, 

conduct. This was the occasion of the inimitable par- 
able of the "two debtors." She was forgiven much, 
and she loved much. After her conversion, she attend- 
ed him on his journeys, and ministered to him of her 
substance. She attended him on his last journey from 
Gralilee to Jerusalem, and was a deeply-affected wit- 
ness of all the scenes connected with his death. She 
was among the disciples who thronged the hall of the 
High Priest during his trial, and her heart melted, like 
wax before the flame, when she heard the Holy One 
condemned to death on perjured testimony. She fol- 
lowed him to the cross ; and as she looked upon the 
dying struggle, and heard the words, ' ' It is finished," 
uttered by his parched and quivering lips, and saw him 
bow his head and give up the ghost, her love was kin- 
dled into a flame. 

The crucifixion scene is over. The tragedy of Cal- 
vary closes amid the hiding of the light of the sun, and 
the convulsions of nature, and the coming forth of the 
dead ! Jesus died the just for the unjust ; and while 
his body is taken in one direction for its burial, Mary 
retires in another, to prepare and mix spices and oint- 
ments for embalming it. She poured precious oint- 
ment on him while living ; he is not to be forgotten 
now that he is dead. " Many waters can not quench 
love, neither can the floods drown it." 

Men can not tell us what it is to love ; they might 
as well attempt to paint a sound. It is an affection 
which demonstrates its own power, and the force of 
that demonstration is only known by those in whose 
bosom the affection lives. Love knows no fear; no 



MARY MAGDALENE. 189 

Love of woman. Visit to the grave. The disciples. 

barrier can arrest it ; through floods and flames it will 
press its way in the pursuit of its object. And the 
love of woman is proverbially strong ; that of Mary 
bore her above all fear. The sepulchre where Jesus 
was laid was removed at some distance from the city, 
and, regardless of all danger, she went forth while it 
was yet dark, on the first day of the week, to his grave. 
Alone she went through the silent streets to a spot par- 
ticularly gloomy, and where even the philosophic mind 
is filled with fairy visions, and to a grave guarded by 
Roman soldiers, and that she might find in the place 
of the dead the body of her Lord. Finding the stone 
removed from the sepulchre, and the body of Jesus not 
there, overwhelmed with sorrow, she ran to his disci- 
ples, saying, " They have taken away the Lord, and 
we know not where they have laid him." How often 
do we sorrow over that which should be a cause of 
joy ! The disciples, excited by the narrative, run to 
the sepulchre, and find the fact to be as stated by 
Mary. Peter seems, at first, to have doubted ; "for 
as yet they knew not the Scriptures, that he must rise 
from the dead." And having satisfied themselves that 
Jesus was risen, and having now received the doctrine 
of the resurrection as actually achieved, " the disciples 
went again to their own homes." 

But how different is the conduct of Mary ! Moved 
by stronger affection, she remained behind, chained to 
the spot where her Savior had lain. The picture, as 
drawn by the beloved disciple, is touching in the ex- 
treme : " She stood without at the sepulchre, weep- 
ing ; and as she wept, she stooped down and looked 



190 PARISH PENCLLINGS. 

A picture. The angels. The Master. 

into the sepulchre." What a suhject for the pencil of 
an Angelo ! The beloved of her soul was crucified, and 
her heart was broken. There was the spot where had 
lain his bleeding and torn body ; the very spot had a 
charm for her. Others might go away, and amid 
other scenes and duties find a balm for their wounded 
spirits ; but to Mary the very grave of her Lord was 
dear ; and thinking that, after all, his body might be 
there, she stooped down and looked into it. Although 
deserted by others, and surrounded by dangers calcu- 
lated to excite her timid heart, yet so completely was 
she occupied by sorrows for her Savior as to be regard- 
less of all else. 

While thus weeping, stooping, desponding, angelic 
voices address her from the sepulchre, saying, " Wom- 
an, why weepest thou ?" " Because they have taken 
away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid 
him," was the prompt and sorrowing reply. When 
speaking to the disciples, it was " the Lord ;" now it is 
" my Lord." Love is appropriating. Turning round, 
she sees in the gray twilight of the morning the out- 
lines of a man, who asks, in rapid succession, " Woman, 
why weepest thou ? whom seekest thou ?" Supposing 
him to be the gardener, she thus passionately address- 
es him : ^' Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me 
where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away." 
Jesus said unto her, *' Mary." Startled into ecstasy 
by the well-known voice, and turning round, she rushes 
toward him, crying out, ^'Rabboni," which is to say, 
"Master." What a subject, again, for the pencil of 
an Angelo ! Forbidding her to touch him, and having 



MARY MAGDALENE. 191 

Sent with a message. Effect of grace. Difficult questions, 

announced to her his resurrection, he sent her to his 
disciples with this message : '' Go to my brethren, and 
say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your 
Father — to my Grod, and your God." And with her 
tears all wiped away, and her heart relieved from the 
weight of its sorrows, and her countenance radiant 
with commingling joy and hope, she announced to the 
disciples that she had seen the Lord, and told them the 
things that he had spoken to her. 

We shall now state a few of the lessons taught hy 
this remarkable narrative of this most interesting 
woman. 

1. It teaches us the true effect of saving grace upon 
the conduct. By saving grace we mean the work of 
the Spirit renewing the soul after the image of God. 
This work of the Spirit not only enlightens the under- 
standing, so that spiritual things are seen in a true 
light, but it also gives the will and the affections an 
irresistible inclination toward them. It is above na- 
ture — it is above moral suasion — it is the effect of the 
power which created the world. 

Connected with this subject are many questions dif- 
ficult of solution. What is the spirit of man ? How 
does God act upon spirit ? In what does the change 
consist ? Christ thus answers these and similar ques- 
tions : " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou 
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
Cometh or whither it goeth ; so is every one that is 
born of the Spirit ;" that is, you may be ignorant as 
to the causes and course of the winds, but you see 
their effects. They move the trees of the forest — they 



192 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Results seen. The great change. Many such. 

lash the ocean into tempest. The evidences of their 
power are not unfrequently strown over earth and 
ocean. And such is the fact as to the Divine influ- 
ence upon the soul. We may not understand the 
method of its operation, hut the results are read of all 
men. 

How strongly is all this illustrated in the case of 
Mary ! She is described as a poor woman, in the low- 
est condition of her sex, whose sins were of a crimson 
dye — as hodily and spiritually under the dominion of 
Satan. But the possessed of seven devils is made a 
subject of grace and an heir of glory ; and how great 
the change in her conduct ! With the entire devotion 
of her whole heart she attended upon her Lord. His 
feet she washed with her mingling tears of pity and 
joy, and wiped them with the hair of her head, which 
is the glory of woman. Nor did her affection for him 
abate when he was accused as a malefactor — when 
condemned for blasphemy — when crucified between 
two thieves. She was last at the cross ; and having 
prepared spices for his embalming, she was first at his 
grave, to perform this last act of affection. The dark- 
ness of the night' — ^the danger of the way — the dis- 
tance from the city — the loneliness of the place — the 
presence of a rude soldiery excited no fear. No dan- 
ger could deter her from manifesting her love for her 
Lord. And such, in kind, is the effect of saving grace 
upon all hearts. And nlultitudes of her sex, in every 
age, have manifested a devotion to the Savior of men 
only less conspicuous than that of Mary, because less 
known. 



MARY MAGDALENE. 193 

Simple faith honored. Never failed. 

2. It teaches us the honor with which Grod crowns 
the exercises of simple faith. Faith is the saving 
grace. This truth can not he too often asserted in a 
world where the human heart so universally inclines 
to the doctrine of merit. '' He that belie veth in the 
Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved ;" and every instance 
of the simple exercise of faith should be held forth for 
universal instruction and imitation. 

The case of Mary is a beautiful illustration of it. 
Her sins were great, but they were freely forgiven ; 
and from the hour of her forgiveness until she passes 
from our view, her simple faith is conspicuous. She 
followed her Savior through Judea, sitting at his feet 
whenever he spoke the words of truth — his instructions 
falling upon her soul as the rain upon the mown grass. 
When her Lord was accused as a malefactor, her faith 
never wavered. She followed him to the hall of Pilate 
and to the summit of Calvary ; and when the last deep 
groan by which his sufferings were brought to a term- 
ination escaped his lips, and his head bowed in death, 
her faith failed not. When the unbelieving Jews wag- 
ged their heads in derision — when the sorrowing dis- 
ciples went away, not knowing yet but that his death 
was the end of all they hoped for through him, she 
stood at a distance gazing upon the scene, mourning, 
but yet believing. There she stood until Joseph took 
his body from the cross ; nor did she then go away. 
She followed in the procession to the new-made tomb 
in the rock, and saw his body wrapped in clean linen 
and laid away to its burial. While these last offices 
were performing, she, with the other Mary, sat over 

I 



194 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Faith honored. A monument of faith. 

against the sepulchre, weeping, but yet beheving. 
"Waiting and worshiping through the Sabbath, she 
hastened to the tomb while it was yet dark, on the 
morning of the first day of the week, for the purpose 
of embalming him, undismayed by all the dangers to 
which she was exposed. Oh Mary, great was thy 
faith ! 

And behold the way in which Grod honors it. As 
she approached the sepulchre, she found the great 
stone rolled away from its mouth. Here is one diffi- 
culty removed. Looking in vain for her Lord, angels 
announce to her his resurrection. This glorious truth 
she is first honored in knowing ; she first announces it 
to his disciples ! and she is honored with the first sight 
of her risen Lord ! It is expressly recorded that " he 
appeared first to Mary Magdalene." What the eye 
and ear of Jesus had alone seen and heard, he would 
have recorded to the end of the world ; and he would 
exhibit, in this woman, his peculiar regard for the ex- 
ercise of simple faith under the most trying circum- 
stances. And to all succeeding generations Mary will 
stand forth a monument of the blessedness of those 
who, amid the trials and discouragements of the pres- 
ent mortal state, exercise a simple implicit trust in the 
Lord. 

The Lord is nigh to all those that call upon him. 
He has graciously promised to be found of , all those 
that seek him aright. Though at all times nigh to 
those that seek him, he is often hidden from them be- 
hind some providential dispensation ; but he will soon 
reveal himself, and teach us, as he did Mary, that they 



MARY MAGDALENE. 195 

Weeping for a night. True way to seek Christ. 

who truly seek him shall not seek him in vain. Clouds 
can not always obscure the sun. The anger of a kind 
father does not always hurn. Christ is ever more 
ready to be found of his people than they are to seek 
him. See him meeting his disciples at the sea when 
weary with rowing; see him meeting with Daniel 
when weeping and fasting, and with John when an 
exile on Patmos. Mary only sought the dead body of 
her Lord, but she found him alive for evermore, to the 
joy and rejoicing of her soul ! What encouragements 
to seek the Lord until we find ! "Weeping may con- 
tinue for a night, but joy will come in the morning. 

3. It teaches us the true way of seeking Christ. 
When found of Mary, Christ had but just risen ; he 
had not yet ascended. With all the ardor of her soul, 
she ran to embrace him ; but he repels her with what 
appears, at first sight, an unwonted and unnecessary 
abruptness, saying to her, " Touch me not." What 
does this mean ? Why thus chill the flow of the warm 
current of her affections ? Mary, perhaps, felt that it 
was enough for her to find her risen Lord, and was 
about casting herself at his feet, and clinging to his 
mere bodily presence. But he means to say to her, 
"" Mary, there is something better than my bodily pres- 
ence ; you must look to a crucified, risen, ascended 
Savior, and to a sanctifying Spirit; and go tell my 
brethren that I am risen from the dead — that I am 
alive for evermore." This we may regard as the mean- 
ing of our Lord until we are furnished with a better. 

How exactly do Satan, and superstition, and error 
teach the opposite of all this. They endeavor to at- 



196 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Devices of Satan. What avails. Human glory. 

tract the mind and the heart from, the spiritual to the 
visible — from the work of Christ to the worship of 
his pictures and bowing at his name— from heaven to 
earth — from the truth to the form by which it is ex- 
pressed. Men are fond of gods which they can see ; 
and hence Satan is ever dressing up something in 
gaudy trappings, and covering it with gewgaws, and 
calling it by a religious name, and is ever saying to 
our sensual race, " These be thy gods, Israel." But 
of his devices in these respects we should not be igno- 
rant. To seek Christ aright, we must not look for him 
in the tomb, nor yet upon the cross, nor yet in the 
flesh. "We must seek him in his word, and rest upon 
his finished work, and trust to his all-prevalent inter- 
cession. Many, like Mary, would cling to his person 
and presence, but his work for us, and the work of his 
Spirit in us, alone avail in our behalf as sinners. 

In every age, the character of a consummate gen- 
eral and victorious leader of armies has been the glory 
of man. To return from the field of battle, wearing 
the wreath of victory, has been considered immortality 
sufl^icient ; and those who have attained this character 
have reveled amid the adorations of the multitude. 
Such was an Alexander, who, after conquering the 
world, sighed for other worlds to conquer ; such was a 
Caesar, who, after subduing the enemies of his coun- 
try, enslaved Rome ; such was a Bonaparte, 

" The man of thousand thrones, 
Who strewed our earth with hostile bones," 

and who, by the splendor and rapidity of his achieve- 
ments, filled the world with his fame. The glory of 



MARY MAGDALENE. 197 

Grace the glory of woman. 

influencing men by the powers of eloquence, in the 
senate house, the legislative hall, or in the assemblies 
of the people, has been intensely sought by man ; and 
a few have attained it. The names of a Demosthenes 
and a Cicero have become household words. The one 
awoke Grreece to concert against Philip; the other 
saved his country from the arts of a Catiline ; and the 
forensic fame of a Burke, a Pitt, a Fox, a Henry, a 
Pinckney, has gone out into all the earth. So the pos- 
session of wealth, because of the pomp and circum- 
stances which it sustains, has been the glory of man ; 
and to obtain it, men have dared all dangers, and have 
searched all climes. But grace is the glory of woman. 
A true and fervent faith is her crown of glory. These 
raised Mary from the lowest position of her sex to the 
very highest to which mortals ever attain. "Without 
these, all the other accomplishments of woman are but 
'' as the flower of the grass." 



198 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Fears as to popery. Florida. Mississippi. 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES.* 

"When we regard all its antecedents, it is no wonder 
that many of the good people of Britain indulge fears 
as to the ultimate prevalence of popery in this land. 
Maryland, one of our oldest states, was settled by pa- j 
pists ; Lord Baltimore, its proprietor, was a papist ; its * 
first colonists were papists, who fled thither from En- 
gland in 1633, in order to escape the severity with 
which they were treated. Papists were thus to Mary- 
land what the Puritans were to New England, and had 
precisely the same opportunity to impress and to extend 
their opinions. 

Florida, from its settlement by the Spaniards until 
its cession to the United States in 1820, save a few 
years of British rule, was entirely under papal influ- 
ence. There the Spaniards and their priests had every 
thing at their will as completely as in the neighboring 
island of Cuba. 

The whole country west of the Mississippi, now em- 
bracing the states of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mis- 
souri, extending north to Canada, belonged originally 
to the French, and was settled by them. Indeed, the 
first Europeans that trod those vast regions were Jesuit 
missionaries, and never had papal priests a fairer op- 

* Written for " The News of the Churches," a monthly paper of 
great interest, published in Edinburgh. 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 199 

Northern frontier. Texas and California. Immigration. 

portunity of laying deep and broad the foundations of 
their system. 

The whole of our northern frontier, from the mouth 
of the St. Lawrence to Fond du Lac, at the western 
extremity of Lake Superior, has ever been exposed to 
the influence of popery from Canada. Indeed, the first 
settlers of most of the frontier cities and towns along 
that extended line were papists. 

The State of Texas, until its annexation a few years 
since, was closed against all Protestant influence as 
strongly as Spain itself ; and so was California, until 
its recent conquest and incorporation with the Union ; 
and it is no wonder, in view of historical statements 
like these, that many among you may imagine that we 
are hemmed in on all sides, save on the east, with a 
popish population, which is pressing inward upon us 
from the circumference to the centre. 

And then, for the last fifty years, there has been a 
wonderful tide of immigration from the popish coun- 
tries of Europe pouring itself yearly upon our shores. 
It is asserted by some popish writers that not less than 
several millions of Irish immigrants have come hither ! 
Most of these were papists ; and Irish papists are to 
to be found every where in this land ; and G-erman 
papists are now coming hither in numbers, if not sur- 
passing, at least equal to those coming from Ireland, 
and these very frequently settle in clusters, where they 
sustain each other in maintaining their national and 
their rehgious peculiarities. Now, when we put all 
these things together, we need not wonder at the fears 
which many, on your side of the Atlantic, indulge as 



200 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

Chuicli statistics. Papists and Protestants. Moral influence. 

to the prevalence of popery among us, not at the alarm 
of many among ourselves on the same subject. 

And yet the present facts in the case are as follows : 
"While in Maryland there are only sixty-five papal 
churches, there are about eight hundred Frotestant ! 
While in Florida there are one hundred and fifty-two 
churches, there are but five of them papal ! Of the 
two hundred and seventy-eight churches of Louisiana, 
but fifty-five belong to the Pope ! Already there are 
one hundred and sixty-four churches in Texas, of which 
but thirteen are papist ! and at the present hour, the 
Protestant is, beyond all odds, the predominant influ- 
ence in California, where, until very recently, Eoman- 
ism reigned supreme and alone I Indeed, the census 
just published by Congress reveals the fact that the 
papists have in the entire country, from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific, but eleven hundred and twelve churches, 
accommodating 621,000 hearers, which is not one 
eleventh of the number of Methodist churches, scarcely 
one eighth of the Baptist, and not one fourth of the 
Presbyterian. I hope these statistics, drawn with some 
care from the last census lying before me, may be re- 
membered and pondered on the other side of the water. 

And the moral influence of our papal population is 
far below what might be expected from its numerical 
strength. Its political power lies in the fact that the 
dupes of the system vote at the bidding of the priest ; 
and the priest would lead his followers to the polls to 
vote for Beelzebub as president, governor, or mayor, if 
he would only subserve his purposes. On this account 
the different political parties court the priest in public, 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 201 
Political power. An examination. Periodicals and priests. 

in order to secure the votes of his followers, while they 
detest him in private. But, as it is a poor rule that 
does not work both ways, this power is rapidly passing 
away, for our politicians are beginning to see that to 
court the papist is to array against them the Protestant ; 
and there is nothing to be gained by this operation, as 
the Protestant is to the papist as twelve to one. While 
their political power is thus going, their moral power 
is nothing. The people are generally poor and igno- 
rant, and greatly immoral. They are, as a rule, our 
only beggars. They are the keepers of our low grog- 
shops and tippling-houses ; they form the main staple 
of our alms-houses, and of our jails and prisons. A few 
days since, an examination was made in the House of 
Correction in South Boston, and out of forty boys there 
confined for crime, thirty-eight were the children of 
popish parents. And from the fact that priests are 
usually the attendants of those executed for murder, I 
infer that most of our high criminals have been brought 
up amid the debasing and demoralizing influences of 
popery. It is with us as it is every where else in the 
world, the more intense the popery, the more intense 
the ignorance and wickedness of the people. 

Nor do popish priests or periodicals give any moral 
power to the system. They have but few men of any 
talent, and these have been so thoroughly beaten in the 
fields of oral and written discussion as to greatly di- 
minish their influence even with their own people. 
Bishop Hughes, of New York, has been the most for- 
ward of all the priests, and, because of his pohtical in- 
fluence with the Irish, was not a little dreaded ; but 

12 



202 PARISH PENCILING S. 



Madai persecution. 



his prestige is all gone, and his character as a con- 
trovertist is in the dust. Their papers, too, are of a 
low order, conducted mainly to excite the passions of 
the people, and to inflame their prejudices ; so that 
from the ministry and the press, which are tov/ers of 
strength to the evangelical Christians of this land, 
popery gains nothing but weakness. 

And there are special causes existing at this mo- 
ment which make very much against the entire sys- 
tem. I will briefly allude to a few of them. 

The visit of Gavazzi had a wonderful effect in draw- 
ing attention to the opposition of the system to the 
progress of human liberty. Multitudes thronged every 
where to hear him, and his orations had a powerful ef- 
fect in arousing the public mind to the enormities and 
the wickedness of the priests ; and the fierce riots 
with which he was greeted in Montreal by the Irish 
papists greatly increased his power. 

The persecutions abroad have been considered and 
pondered here. They are denounced by the press all 
over the Union, save the few in the pay of the priests ; 
and the vindication by these of the conduct of the Tus- 
can government, in the case of the Madiai and Miss 
Cunninghame, has powerfully reacted against them. 
There is nothing on which we are so intensely sensi- 
tive as on persecution for opinion's sake; and it is 
known by us all, that in the vocabulary of the papist, 
''freedom of opinion on matters ofrehgious concern- 
ment" is synonymous with licentiousness, and is a 
damnable delusion. 

There is a little island, Cuba, lying south of Florida, 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 203 

Cuba. Property question. Visit of Cedini. 

and within a few days' sail of New York, which is 
constantly giving us illustrations of the spirit of popery. 
Our people go there in the winter for health, and re- 
turn in the spring to tell us of the immoralities of the 
priests, and the intense superstition and bigotry of the 
people, and of the enormous impositions of the Church ; 
and when we need in any way an illustration of the 
spirit of popery, we need only point to Cuba, worse 
governed at this hour than probably any spot in Eu- 
rope or America. Scenes are there of weekly occur- 
rence, under the dictation of the Church, which are a 
disgrace to the civilized world. 

The debates in some of our Legislatures, and the 
discussion in many of our papers as to '' the property 
question," has reacted powerfully on the priests. Here 
our individual churches are held by trustees, who are 
elected annually, and who are known in law as a body 
corporate. The priests have sought to have an act 
passed making the bishop of the diocese the sole trustee 
of all Church property. They fear to trust their peo- 
ple ; and as the bishops are appointed by the Pope, 
such a law would place an immense amount of prop- 
erty to be used, through his pliant tools, at will, by the 
Holy Father. This effort has arrayed many papists 
against the priests, who have been signally defeated in 
their object, and has done much to expose their vault- 
ing ambition. Every such effort, in its failure, has a 
destructive rebound. 

And last, though not least, in these adverse causes, 
may be named the visit of Bedini, the Pope's Nuncio 
to Brazil, taking the United States on his way ! He 



204 PARISH PENCI LINGS. 

A wolf. The rebound. Emigration. 

came here a wolf in the clothing of a sheep, and when 
the clothing which covered him was taken dfF, he was 
treated as a wolf. When it was known who he was, 
the Italians and Grermans rose against him as the 
butcher of Bologna, and he had to flee the country to 
save his life. His great dread was from his own coun- 
trymen, who saw upon his hand and on his rohes the 
blood of their own compatriots ; so that the very men 
from whom we might expect an importation of Aus- 
trian and Italian popery are the very men who scared 
the nuncio out of his senses, and caused him to flee 
as an assassin from a land where he expected to be 
treated as a prince. The rebound upon popery is tre- 
mendous, and the priests are at their wits' ends to 
know what to do. The sun upon their dial has gone 
fifty years backward. 

So that you need not fear in Britain as to the prev- 
alence of popery in the United States. Let the Irish 
and the Continental papists come ; we have room for 
them all. We would have no objection to the coming 
of the Pope himself. Unless he can outpreach us, we 
have no dread of him ; and when he does that in truth, 
he ought to succeed. 

To a few of the causes which have led to these re- 
sults I now ask your attention. 

1. Emigration itself tends to expand, enlarge, and 
liberalize the mind. The peasants of Europe are poor, 
attached to ancient habits, and as far forth as they are 
papists, bigoted, superstitious, and the dupes of the 
priest. Such are benefited by a journey from the in- 
terior of Ireland to Belfast or Dublin ; and when they 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 205 

Effects of it. Powerful influence. Anecdote. 

return home they have many new subjects of thought. 
But when they cross the Atlantic, and become citizens 
of the Western World, there is soon a great revolution 
apparent. They have seen the wide sea ; they are 
mixing up with a new people. New objects arrest 
attention ; new pursuits occupy their minds and their 
hands. They are no longer serfs or tenants ; for the 
most menial employment they receive full wages. 
They soon exchange their brogues for shoes, their caps 
for bonnets, their breeches for pantaloons, their frieze 
for broadcloth. And there is a similar internal revolu- 
tion. They commence thinking for themselves. The 
bands of superstition relax, and soon fall from around 
them. The dread of the priest has passed away, and 
in proportion of the severity of the bondage of the 
fatherland is the rapidity with which they break away 
from it. As the feelings and habits of Turk or Jew 
would be greatly modified by a residence in Scotland, 
so are those of papists by a residence in America. 
And here is an influence which no priestly vigilance 
can arrest. I found a young and vigorous papist read- 
ing some tracts which I once scattered over a vessel at 
sea. " Why is it," said I, '' that you read Protestant 
tracts ?" "I have been three years in America, and 
I have learned to think for myself," was the reply. 
The whole history of emigration proves that it tends 
to the modification of opinions, habits, and customs. 
Nor is it possible for the papist to be here what he 
was in Ireland, France, or Austria. 

2. And every man in this land reads and thinks for 
himself, when he can read or think at all. The popu- 



206 PARISH PENCILING S. 

All read. The American feeling. No legal Church. 

lar institutions of the country render it necessary to 
discuss all subjects before the people, and hence the 
all-pervading extent of the political press. Every body 
reads the papers, and the papers discuss every thing ; 
and books and periodicals are rained down all over the 
land ; and such is the pressure in that direction, that 
a man is almost as much compelled to read here as he 
is to go forward when drawn or driven by a locomo- 
tive. And the priest can not select the matter to be 
read by his people. The mass-book is soon laid aside 
for the newspaper, and " The Lives of the Saints," 
that compound of lying wonders, for miscellaneous 
reading ; and but few here take any thing on credit. 
The father and son are very often on the opposite sides 
of the political and religious creed. The American 
feeling is to sift evidence for ourselves, and to receive 
nothing as an article of faith simply because our fa- 
thers received it. The priest that would attempt to 
fasten his dogmas upon a youth born here, simply be- 
cause they were believed by his parents, would soon 
find himself in the vocative. He would soon be told 
that his argument, if valid, would keep the Turk a 
Turk, the Jew a Jew, the heathen a heathen forever. 
This American feeling makes our country a very hard 
one for popish missionaries. The traditionary argu- 
ment, strong in Ireland and Italy, is here as flax be- 
fore the fire, as dry stubble before the raging confla- 
gration. 

3. Because of the entire separation between the 
Church and the state, we have no legal enactment of 
any kind for the support of religion. The laws protect 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 207 

All protected by law. An advantage. Common sense. 

the Sabbath, and they protect every man — ^the Hindu 
equally with the papist and Protestant in his religious 
worship. No man is compelled to support any faith or 
worship in any way or form. Hence we have no dis- 
senters — ^no clashing of parties for patronage — no jeal- 
ousies of sects because of governmental favors. Hence 
the trade of the priest in Ireland is destroyed here ; 
and he can no more get up a crusade against the Prot- 
estants on legal grievances than he can get up a pro- 
cession of the host in New York, like those of Rome 
or Naples. This gives a great advantage ; for as they 
stand on equal ground with us before the law, there is 
no excited passion to blind them to the force of our ar- 
guments. We are thus thrown upon the Bible and 
our principles, and those only who have Scripture and 
reason on their side can have any hope of success. 
Here we have a vast advantage. 

Although an excitable, we are, after all, a very 
common-sense people. Things that seem very proper 
among you would expose a man here to intense ridi- 
cule. An advocate who would go into one of our 
courts with a wig on his head, as among you, would 
never get over it. It is as much as many of our Apos- 
tolical Successionists and our Baptismal Regenerators 
can do to get cleverly along. When impervious to rea- 
son, they are intensely ridiculed ; but when the non- 
sense assumes the shape of popery, and in that form 
puts forward its dogmas and pretensions, it revolts our 
common sense. Such is the wakefulness of our people 
to all subjects, that even servants in the kitchen, me- 
chanics in the shop, workmen on our railways and ca- 



208 PARISH PEN CI LINGS. 

All discuss. American taste. Ds simplicity. 

nals, discuss and decide upon high topics which engaged 
the minds of Aquinas and Bellarmine ; and, when Scrip- 
ture and reason fail, the cause is lost, and the doctrine 
is surrendered. Hence the multitudes that have left 
the papal Church, and the multitudes yet nominally- 
attached to it, who believe in Purgatory, and priestly 
remissions, and praying to saints, and in the mummery 
of the mass, just as much as you Scotch Presbyteri- 
ans believe in the saintship of Claverhouse or in the 
authenticity of the Apocrypha. 

4. Every nation has its own peculiar tastes. This 
is so as to the fine arts, as to architecture, dress, and 
the mechanic arts ; and while true religion is every 
where the same, because consisting in a right state of 
the heart toward God, yet there are natural tastes as 
to its external development. There may be said to be 
in religion an Italian, German, French, English, and 
Scotch taste. And why not an American? The 
showy robes of English prelacy, which are venerated 
south of the Tweed, are regarded as the rags of " the 
old lady on the seven hills" north of it ; and the plain, 
simple dress of the north is disdained in the south. 
The American feeling tends strongly to the simple in 
religion, so that even the gown and bands are all but 
universally laid aside among all Protestants, save Epis- 
copalians ; and their dress and forms are among the 
great obstructions to their growth as a people. If for 
no other reasons than these, they never can extend as 
do other branches of the Church in this land. Hence 
the taste of the country is most decidedly anti-papal. 
Popery might do for the Dark Ages — it may do for a 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 209 



Popery will not do. The Bible. Papists read it. 

semi-enlightened people ■ — it may do as a system of 
police in the old nations of Europe — it may do to main- 
tain the authority of the priest over an ignorant people 
— it may do for Italy, or for Austria, or for infidel 
France, or for groaning Ireland, but it is not adapted 
to America ; the national taste is averse to it, and just 
in proportion as emigrants here become Americans do 
they become anti-papists. The religion of Italy can 
never intrench itself in the American heart ; its his- 
tory, its claims, its pretensions, its lying v^onders, are 
no greater obstacles to its growth than are the intelli- 
gence, the common sense, and the taste of our people. 
5. The Bible and the common school are mighty 
causes for good among us. It is doubtful if there is a 
people on the globe, as numerous as we are, among 
whom the Bible is more generally circulated. There 
is a crying destitution, I admit, but it is mostly among 
emigrants, and on the selvages of the country, where 
Christian enterprise has followed too tardily in the 
wake of our extending population ; and as we are not 
afraid of the Douay Bible, we ask the papist why he 
should be afraid of ours ? We tell him that we will 
take his Bible, if it has an almanac at the end of it ; if 
half of it is omitted ; if it is badly translated ; and we 
ask him why he will not take ours, even if he believes 
it defective in some points? We moreover tell him 
that we wish him to believe no doctrine which is not 
plainly taught in his version and ours. And the Bible 
is read by papists in thousands ; nor can the anath- 
emas of the priests do any thing, save to stimulate them 
onward to its perusal. We tell them that the Bible is 



210 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The Bible a letter. Public schools. The knifq. 

a letter from their heavenly Father directed to them, 
and for the priest to claim the right to read it for them, 
and to tell them what is in it, is as preposterous as to 
claim to read and to interpret for them the letters sent 
to them by earthly parents. And this is to them both 
an illustration and an argument, the force of which 
they strongly feel. When they seriously read the Bi- 
ble, it is all over with the Pope and the priest. 

And then, in most of our states there is a system of 
public schools, by which all the children are brought 
together for instruction. In these schools the children 
of the governor and of his coachman, of the papist and 
of the Protestant, meet. They sit on the same bench, 
read the same books, and receive the same instruction. 
Their minds come into conflict ; and they grow up to- 
gether to think and to act for themselves. If the Bible 
is not read, nor a word said upon religious topics in 
these schools, their whole drift and tendency is anti- 
papal. This the priests plainly see ; and hence their 
bitter and leagued opposition to our public schools. 
Knowledge is to these youths what a knife is in the 
hands of a man bound with ropes — it enables them to 
cut the ties of prejudice and superstition by which they 
are fettered ; and the priests publicly declare that it is 
better for papal parents to permit their children to grow 
up in abject ignorance, than to send them to these 
schools, where their salvation is so much jeopardized ! 
But parents will send their children to 'school. They 
see that there is no other hope for their rising above 
the condition of menials, and they will breast the wrath 
of the priest, which, even here, is sometimes quite 



POPERY IN THE UNITED STATES. 211 

The mill. The atmosphere. The priests. 

fierce, rather than fasten the yoke of servitude on their 
children by bringing them up in ignorance. So that 
between the Bible and our common schools, the priests 
have a hard time of it. The one is the upper, and the 
other is the nether stone of a mill which we keep in 
vigorous operation. We put the children in at the 
hopper, and they come out at the spout Americans and 
Protestants. Hence the children of papal parents, ed- 
ucated here, to a remarkable extent pass over from the 
superstitious faith of their fathers. 

Indeed, the very atmosphere of our country is Prot- 
estant. You see it and feel it every where. It in- 
fuses a new kind of life into the papists coming here. 
Even the priests skulk from the light which blazes 
around them, and show by their downcast looks that 
they are doing the deeds of darkness. Hence they 
must be aU imported. Priests of native birth are about 
as scarce as bats in winter ; and even the ordinary 
servants, when asked as to their religion, often hesitate, 
and when papists, seemed ashamed to own it. 

These are some of the causes why popery is in its 
present low and feeble condition in the United States, 
in view of its history, its opportunities, and its ante- 
cedents ; and these causes are yearly increasing in 
force and number. And never did it stand in such a 
pitiable plight before the country as it does at this hour. 

I promise you that if you take care of papists in 
Britain, we will take care of them in America. 



212 PARISH PENCILING S. 



Anniversaries. A stroll. A scene. 



A DREAM. 

It was the week of the anniversaries in New York, 
and when they were mostly celebrated in Metropolitan 
Hall. With others, I crowded my way to that gor- 
geously-decorated building, since laid in ashes, and 
heard several addresses of a mixed and varied character, 
as they have been, and must be. Some of them were 
wise, and some otherwise ; some were very flat — some 
very inflated ; some advocate the particular charity, and 
some themselves in particular. "When the powers of 
sitting and hearing were both exhausted, I left the 
Hall, and wandered about, I cared not whither, until, 
rousing to some observation, I found myself in Brook- 
lyn. There a raree show attracted my attention, the 
actors in which were young men and women, exqui- 
sitely dressed, wonderfully polite and fascinating, and 
passionately enamored of one another. I stood and 
gazed upon their frivolous and amorous antics for some 
time, when I was beckoned behind the curtain, and 
entered. I soon found that I was among females of 
the most fascinating manners, but of loose conversation 
and morals, and in a room elegantly furnished. I was 
left alone with some maidens, whose lips dropped as a 
honeycomb, and whose tempting words were smoother 
than oil. A parley commenced ; their temptations were 



A DREAM. 213 



Exit. Spies. Iron men. 

resisted, and, resenting the deception practiced on me, 
I fled the room. 

I made my exit through a room filled with vulgar 
men, who were drinking, smoking, swearing, and in- 
dulging in boisterous mirth. I wrapped my cloak 
around me so as to conceal my person, unwilling, pure 
and innocent as I was, to be recognized as having been 
even decoyed into such a place. But as I passed out, 
I heard a low whisper pass round the room, and obvi- 
ously uttered with glee, '' There goes a minister ! there 
goes a minister !" A feeling of shame and humiliation 
came over me, and I drew my cloak more tightly 
around my neck and face as I issued from the den of 
wickedness — from the house built upon the highway 
to hell. 

A few men, who seemed to act as spies upon the 
house, and determined to know the names of its visit- 
ors, met me at the door. They sought a view of my 
face in a way I deemed inquisitive and impertinent, 
and asked me my name. I returned a sharp reply, 
and so as to rebuke their impertinence. " You are a 
minister," they said, " and we will find out who you 
are, at any rate or cost." I was shocked alike by 
their recognition of my calling and their stern resolu- 
tion. I saw in a moment they were men not to be 
turned aside from their purpose. I passed through 
narrow streets — I entered public houses by one door 
and went out by another, but those iron men followed 
me ; and when rejoicing that I had at length escaped 
from them, I would meet them at the next corner, as 
determined as ever to find me out. " "We will find you 



214 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Hot pursuit. Scrutinized. Conversation. 

out," were the words with which they greeted me at 
every meeting. I went up the river — I entered a nar- 
row lane — I concealed myself amid a thick grove of 
trees at its end, and when hoping they had lost my 
trail, they stood before me, saying, ^' We will find you 
out." I eventually gained a narrow neck of land, al- 
most surrounded by water, and covered with all kinds 
of rubbish, amid which there were many low trees. 
Not an individual was there, and I could readily con- 
ceal myself from any one seeking me from the water 
or from the land. Here I hid myself, now among old 
logs, now amid low trees, until I hoped my pursuers 
had given over all search of me ; but the moment I 
issued from it, they were the first to meet me, and 
sternly to say to me, "We will find you out." I en- 
tered a ferry-boat to cross the river ; they were behind 
me ; they told every body they saw me coming out of 
a house of very suspicious character, and asked all on 
board if they knew me. All eyes were scrutinizing 
me, and yet none recognized me. 

When landed in New York, my pursuers entered 
into a conversation with friends they met on the 
wharf, saying they were going to have a great Moral 
Reform meeting that evening at Metropolitan Hall, and 
that they were going over to secure the services, if 

possible, of the Rev. Dr. , of . " Why," 

said the persons, "Dr. was on board the boat 

with you ; why did you not ask him there ?" 

"Where is he ?" they quickly asked. 

" There he is, with the cloak round his neck," was 
the reply. 



A DREAM. 215 



Amazed. Honesty the best policy. 



" And is that Dr. ?" said they, with astonish- 
ment ; " why, we saw him coming out of a suspicious 
house in Brooklyn but a short time ago, and we sus- 
pected he was a minister, and we told him we would 
find him out. And is that Dr. ?" They seem- 
ed amazed, and confounded, and overwhelmed ; for, al- 
though very prying persons, they seemed to be good 
men. 

I was now discovered ; and, although conscious of 
innocence, I felt there was an appearance of evil which 
I could not satisfactorily explain, and I was, in my 
turn, overwhelmed with confusion. My conduct was 
almost sufficient to prove my guilt; instead of de- 
nouncing the house, and the deception practiced on 
me, and frankly telling my name to those men at 
once, I acted as if a guilty man. Rousing to a sense 
of my position, and recognizing, though late, that hon- 
esty was the best policy, I walked up to the men, threw 
aside my cloak, declared my name, and just as, with 
earnest soul, I commenced a true narrative of all the 
circumstances, I awoke, and, to my unutterable joy, 
found that it was all a dream. 

The whole thing created a nervous excitement, 
which prevented any further sleep that night. Al- 
though a dream, it had its lessons of instruction, which 
I pondered and noted, and which, on the next day, I 
committed to writing for my own benefit. They are 
now published for the benefit of others. 

1. It teaches us to beware of all allurements which 
would decoy us into the ways of sin. The fly plays 
unsuspiciously around the candle ; first its wings are 



216 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

The spider's web. Grace needed. Meet accusers. 

scorched, and then it falls into the burning flame. 
The spider weaves its beautiful web, and when insects 
fall into its meshes, the venomous weaver gloats upon 
their struggles, seizes them in its deadly fangs, and 
carries them away to its dark cell. And thus often 
are men decoyed from the ways of virtue, and scarcely 
know where they are until those deeds are committed 
which bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder. 

2. It teaches us how much we need grace in the 
hour of temptation. Wicked persons are cowards 
when resisted; but, once yield to their solicitations, 
and they are bold as a lion. It is difficult to drag a 
boat from the land to the water ; but when out on the 
water, the hand of a child may drive it along and turn 
it in any direction. Man, in his virtue, is strong ; but 
when he lets down its bars, the lock of his strength is 
gone, and he is in the lap of Delilah, and exposed to 
the Philistines. 

3. It teaches us promptly and honestly to meet all 
accusers face to face. "When accused of an evil done, 
frankly confess it, repent of it, and forsake the way 
which leads to its repetition ; when wrongly accused, 
assert your innocence, even when circumstances may 
be such as to excite suspicion. Suspicious circum- 
stances may be explained, but a cowardly evasion of 
explanation may be tantamount to proof. Joseph as- 
serted his innocence even when the wife of Potiphar 
produced his garment in testimony against him. 

4. It teaches us to avoid the appearance of evil. 
Although entirely innocent, appearances may be strong- 
ly against us, and, in the absence of positive testimony. 



A DREAM. 217 



Appearances. Sin agrarian. 

the world relies on the evidence of appearances ; es- 
pecially is this so when the character of Christians is 
involved. Hence the point and the importance of the 
command, ''Abstain from all appearance of evil." 

And that low whisper which passed round the room, 
and was uttered with so much apparent joy, " There 
goes a minister ! there goes a minister !" proves and il- 
lustrates the way and manner in which the sins of the 
good cheer and strengthen the wicked in their iniquity. 
Sin is essentially agrarian ; it would reduce all to its 
own base level ; and the pillars of the temple of relig- 
ion and virtue are giving way when the ministers of 
G-od fall into sin. No doubt the example of David, in 
multitudes of instances, is quoted in mitigation of the 
sin of adultery down to the present day. 

So that even from dreams many instructive lessons 
may be drawm. 

K 



218 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Evangelists. False views. The good denounced. 



THE PRAYER OF FAITH. 

In my early ministry, ^^ the Prayer of Faith" was a 
topic of frequent and earnest discussion. Fanatical 
and greatly erroneous views had widely obtained in 
reference to it, and mainly through the agency of a 
wandering class of evangelists, who for a time were 
greatly popular, hut who, happily, have now passed 
away like the summer hrook. If a congregation was 
not revived, it was because the minister and people 
had no faith ; if prayers were not immediately answer- 
ed, it was because they were not offered in faith ; if 
the children of pious parents were not converted, it was 
because they were not prayed for in faith ; and if all 
things for which we are commanded to pray were not 
just as Grod would have them, the fauk was laid, by 
those fanatical evangelists, at the door of the Church, 
and to its lack of faith. And many a story did they 
narrate as to the efficacy of their prayers, in proof and 
illustration of their positions ; and by these evange- 
lists and then* followers, those ministers who enjoyed 
no revivals, and thoSe Christian parents whose chil- 
dren were unconverted, were denounced as faithless, 
and all who opposed their measures and their views 
were regarded as formalists, and as blind leaders of 
the blind. 

And all this, among the sincere and pious, was ow- 



THE PRAYER OP FAITH. 219 

Two kinds of faith. Of miracles. Common faith. 

ing, perhaps, as much to a misinterpretation of Scrip- 
ture as to any other cause. We are obviously taught 
that there were two kinds of faith in the early Church 
— extraordinary, or the faith of miracles ; and com- 
mon, which was exercised by all who believed the Gros- 
pel. The faith of miracles was exercised by many 
who were never truly converted, as by Judas; but 
common faith, in its very nature, is a gracious exer- 
cise. These often met in the same person, but they 
are clearly different from one another. The faith of 
miracles was peculiar to those who wrought them, and 
included not only belief in the being and attributes of 
God, but also that a particular miracle would be 
wrought. And so Christ teaches, " Whatsoever things 
ye desire, when you pray, believe that ye receive them, 
and ye shall have them." And without here entering 
into the question as to how this faith was excited in 
the soul, we only assert that in the exercise of it every 
thing that was asked was granted. Hence the prom- 
ise, " The prayer of faith shall save the sick," which 
is simply a promise that miraculous effects should fol- 
low a prayer preferred in the exercise of miraculous 
faith. 

Besides this, there is a faith common to all Chris- 
tians, which rests simply on the word and promises 
of Grod. It is the fruit and the effect of Divine teach- 
ing, and is wrought in the soul by the Holy Grhost. 
This faith rests on the being, the power, the promises, 
the wisdom, the benevolence of Grod. In its exercise 
we go to G-od as children to a kind and living father, 
knowing that he will give to us what we need and 



220 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The prayer of faith. Prayer of Christ. Aged man. 

will be for our good, and that he will withhold only 
what we do not need and what would injure. The 
prayer of faith, as now offered, consists in going to 
God, believing that he is, and that he is the rewarder 
of those who diligently seek him, and in the full per- 
suasion that no good thing will he withhold from them 
that walk uprightly. It consists in casting all our 
care upon him, knowing that he careth for us. 

Such is truly the prayer of faith ; and because fail- 
ing to distinguish between the faith of miracles and 
ordinary faith, as exercised by all behevers in prayer, 
many have become vain and clamorous fanatics, act- 
ing as if G-od were bound to grant them whatever they 
asked with a zeal inflamed to scalding heat. The true 
model of the prayer of faith we have in the prayer of 
our Savior in the garden of agony, with the tragedy 
and sufferings of Calvary in full view, " Abba, Father, 
all things are possible unto thee ; take away this cup 
from me ; nevertheless, not what I will, but what thou 
wilt." Here was the prayer of faith offered by the Son 
of Man himself for the instruction and the imitation of 
all believers. 

In one of the northern counties of the State of Penn- 
sylvania there lived an aged man, honored and beloved 
by all that knew him for his piety, intelligence, integ- 
rity, and kind philanthropy. His life was a living evi- 
dence to the truth and power of religion, which the most 
bitter infidel could not gainsay. He had but one child, 
and that child was a son, at the head of a large family 
of his own, and living at the distance of some miles from 
the house of his father. He was a frank, honest, gen- 



THE PRAYER OF FAITH. 221 

The son. Room of agony. The change. 

erous man, but was living without hope and without 
Grod. He was laid upon a bed of sickness, and his 
disease soon put forth fatal symptoms. The aged fa- 
ther was summoned to the bed of his son ; and as he 
felt his jumping pulse, and laid his hand upon his 
burning brow, and was informed that all hopes of his 
recovery were surrendered, he was intensely moved. 
He soon retired alone to a room, where, in agony of 
spirit, he wrestled with God for the life of his only son. 
Dejected and mourning, he returned to the bed of sick- 
ness, and spoke to his son, as he could, about Jesus, 
and repentance, and faith, and salvation. But, to his 
surprise and deep regret, that dying son heard all he 
had to say without the least emotion. The fever 
somewhat abated, and hopes were indulged, but it was 
only to return with greater violence. The father again 
repaired to that room, and again he wrestled with G-od, 
and again, dejected and mourning, he returned to speak 
to his son about Jesus and the resurrection. But his 
tears, instructions, exhortations, made no impression. 
Again the broken-hearted father repaired to that room 
of audience with Deity, where he remained a long 
while ; and when he again appeared at the dying bed, 
it was with a spirit and manner entirely changed. 
His heart seemed joyful, though sad ; he conversed 
cheerfully with all. A calm succeeded to the intense 
excitement which convulsed his whole soul, as does 
the tempest the ocean. Soon the dying man became 
deeply anxious about his salvation ; his father and his 
pastor pointed him to the cross ; they explained to him 
the nature of faith, and unfolded the promise and the 



222 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Happy death. Burial. Narrative. 

command, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
thou shalt be saved." He beheved ; his Hfe was pro- 
tracted for a few days, through which he gave as 
strong evidence as the circumstances would admit 
that he was renewed by the power of the Holy Grhost ; 
and he died in the arms of his aged father, saying, 
with his last breath, '' I know, when this earthly house 
of my tabernacle is dissolved, I will have a building 
of Grod, a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens." 

The composure of the aged father was so great after 
that protracted visit to the room of prayer, and his 
whole demeanor was so changed, as to excite attention. 
A calm serenity marked his conduct during the death- 
struggle and the funeral solemnities ; and when turn- 
ing away from the grave, he said, with tears, but yet 
with joy, " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away; blessed be the name of the Lord." And on 
being asked to give an account of his exercises during 
these last days of his dying son, he gave the following 
narrative : 

" "When I first heard of the sickness of my son, I 
could not even suppose that he was going to die ; but 
when I first stood by his bedside, my heart sunk with- 
in me. I saw that no power but that of Grod could 
hold him back from the grave ; and I went to my room 
to pray for him, and I sought for his life with a heart 
that would admit of no denial. But Grod seemed hid 
from me, and I was troubled. I went again with very 
much the same feeling, and with the same request. I 
could not bear to think of the death of my son, and 



THE PRAYER OF FAITH. 223 

Talking with God. The happy effect. 

especially in his unprepared state ; and my heart seem- 
ed dried, yes, withered within me, and I returned un- 
satisfied. But I did not feel aright ; I was unwilhng 
that Grod should have his own way. I examined my 
feelings, and I thought of Grod. So I went to my room 
again, and I soon found that I could talk with God as 
a man converses with a friend. I told him that for 
that son I prayed before he was born, and daily since ; 
that I devoted him in his infancy to his Creator ; that 
I sought to bring him up in the ways of religion ; and 
while I confessed my deficiencies, I plead his prom- 
ises. I sought his life, if consistent with the will of 
Grod ; but if that could not be granted, I then asked 
the Lord to hold him back from the grave until he was 
prepared to make an exchange of worlds. Then, after 
pouring out my full soul, I left my dear son in the 
hands of my God, perfectly satisfied that he would do 
what was right and wise with him and with me, and 
desirous that the will of God should be accomplished, 
whether by his life or by his death. My murmuring 
heart was then at rest. I felt that God would answer 
my many prayers on his behalf. "When I heard his 
crying for mercy — his rejoicing in the Lord, it was 
what I expected ; and then I was satisfied that he 
should die ; and now I know that while he can not re- 
turn to me, I must soon go up to him, and I am only 
waiting for my Master to say, ' Come up hither.' But 
that wrestling with God, when I thought I could lay 
hold on his strength, will be ever a memorable point in 
my history." 

That was the prayer of faith ; and we offer the 



224 PARISH PENCILING S. 

When we pray in faith. 

prayer of faith when we pray, beheving in the being 
and attributes of G-od — in the truth of his promises — 
that he will withhold nothing which he deems best for 
them which they ask agreea.bly to his will, and which 
they implore through Jesus Christ, through whom all 
gracious blessings are bestowed. Such is the prayer 
of faith ; and this is the prayer which moves the hand 
which moves the world. 



DEATH-BED REPENTANCES. 225 



Daily repentance. Late repentances. Delusion. 



DEATH-BED REPENTANCES. 

As we sin daily, repentance should he the work of 
every day ; and as we are by nature the children of 
wrath, repentance and faith are the only means of 
escaping the wrath of Grod denounced against sin. 
These are to sinners what planks are to sailors after 
shipwreck, upon which they may escape to the shore, 
or in the neglect of which they must perish amid the 
roaring billows. 

There is no duty more frequently presented in the 
Scriptures, and none to which we are more frequently 
urged by conscience, than repentance ; and yet there 
is none which we are more frequently inclined to post- 
pone. When sin once takes up its lodgings in the 
heart, it is difficult to dispossess it, and hence the dis- 
position to put off repentance to another day. But it 
should be remembered that he that has promised life 
on repentance has not promised life until we repent ; 
and that if we repent not in his time, he may not ac- 
cept of it when it suits our interests to render it. 
"While true repentance is never too late, late repent- 
ances are seldom sincere. 

Hence the awful delusion of putting off repentance 
to a sick-bed and to the last hours of life. To give up 
the world when we can no longer use it — to mourn 
over passions that we can no longer indulge — to ex- 

K2 



226 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Fatal mistake. But one case. A young man. 

press sorrow for sins when just going to the tribunal 
where we must meet them all, would seem, on the face 
of the statement, to he fatal to our sincerity ; and then 
to build up hopes upon such repentances, in the great 
majority of cases, is like building a house upon vapors 
which vanish before the sunlight, or upon the ice which 
dissolves before the first breath of summer. And how- 
ever true and sincere, because there is no time to test 
them, death-bed repentances, in the nature of the case, 
must be ever unsatisfactory to surviving friends ; and 
the return of those to sin on their restoration to health, 
who, when all hope of life was given up, seemed truly 
penitent and prepared to meet their God, goes very far 
to cast a very deep shade over all such repentings, and 
should induce all ministers to protest against them, and 
should lead all men to conclude that the Ethiopian is 
liot thus usually washed white — that the spots of the 
leopard are not thus easily removed. In my whole 
ministerial experience of twenty-five years, I remem- 
ber but one case of severe sickness, which was sup- 
posed to be unto death, that resulted in true repent- 
ance, and in a new life on recovery. 

There was a gay, dashing young man under my 
early ministry, the son of pious parents, who had pass- 
ed into the skies, leaving him, in early life, to be cared 
for by others, who did not neglect him. He was taken 
sick, and of a lingering disease, which seemed steadily 
pursuing its fatal purpose. I soon became a visitor, 
and then a daily attendant upon him. His sins came 
up in order before him, and he was intensely anxious 
about his salvation. Nothing, for many days, could 



DEATH-BED REPENTANCES. 227 

Objections removed. Christ received. Rejoicing. 

soothe his disturbed feehngs. I sat by his side, re- 
solved, as far as possible, to remove every doubt and 
every objection from the Bible which I held open in 
my hand. He urged his great sinfulness. I pointed 
to Manasseh, David, Paul, who found mercy ; and told 
him of John Bunyan, and of many cases which passed 
under my own observation. He feared that Christ 
would not receive him. I told him of the errand of 
Christ to seek and to save the lost ; I taught him as 
to the way in which the salvation of sinners added to 
the declarative glory of the Savior. "When all objec- 
tions were removed, and when his fears were thus 
quelled, I placed the plan of salvation in its simplicity 
and efficacy before him, and urged his acceptance of it ; 
and before I closed my Bible, he said, ^' Well, I never 
saw things before in this light ; I think I can thus re- 
ceive and rest upon Christ for salvation." I prayed 
with him, and retired. 

At my next visit he was rejoicing in Christ, and in 
the most familiar manner narrating his new feelings 
to his friends. The disease steadily progressed until I 
expected daily to hear of his death, but there seemed 
not a waver in his feeling of confidence in Christ. 
His spiritual joy increased with his feebleness, until he 
longed to depart and to be with Christ. His feelings, 
at times, rose up into the region of rapture. He se- 
lected his funeral text and hymn, and talked freely and 
peaceably about his departure ; and although my con- 
fidence in such conversions was always weak, yet I 
felt that this was a genuine case, and so spoke of it to 
many. 



228 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Feelings decline. Avoided. Excess of riot. 

To the amazement of all, a change, as if by mira- 
cle, took place in his disease, and he commenced slowly 
to recover. My visits became less frequent, and with 
returning health there came a dryness of conversation 
on religious subjects. At each visit I could mark a 
declension, until finally there was a reluctance to hear 
any thing personal on the subject. When I saw him 
for the first time, weak and wan, in the street, and 
tottering on the top of a stick, I approached to con- 
gratulate him on his getting out again ; but, observing 
me, he turned into an alley. Often did he send for 
me when sick, but now, when recovering, he avoided 
me. He soon regained his usual strength, and return- 
ed to his ordinary pursuits, and, as if for the purpose 
of erasing all impressions of his sick-bed repentings, he 
went to every excess of riot. Before his sickness he 
was wild, now he was wicked ; before, he was a de- 
cent rowdy, now he was a drunken rake ; before, he 
was full of noisy nonsense, now you could hear his 
boisterous profanity all over the street. He openly 
scoffed at Grod, at the Bible, at religion in all its forms ; 
and whenever he saw me approaching him in the 
street, he always crossed to the opposite side, ashamed 
to meet one who had so often bowed with him in 
prayer while apparently on the crumbling verge of 
eternity, and to whom he so often expressed spiritual 
hopes and joys, which, in the behef of their sincerity, 
caused me to thank God and take courage. 

'No case of repentance on the borders of the grave 
ever inspired me with greater confidence, and in no 
case of backsliding were my hopes so utterly dashed. 



DEATH -BED REPENTANCES. 229 

Different judgments. Another instance. The visit. 

Many years have passed away since I saw this young 
man. Whether he has gone — whether hving or dead, 
I know not ; but when I last saw him, he was as far 
from the kingdom of heaven as any person I ever knew. 
And yet, had he died of that fearful sickness, I would 
have held him up as an instance of true conversion on 
a dying-bed. '' Man looketh on the outward appear- 
ance, but the Lord looketh on the heart." 

From very many similar instances I select another. 

Mr. B was an active, skillful mechanic, of bright 

mind, ready wit, and free, social habits. But he was 
profane, given to drink, skeptical, and neglectful of all 
religious ordinances. I often sought to make some 
serious impression in some way upon him, but I was 
only beating the air. He fell into a slow consumption ; 
and while he could go about, my visits to him in sick- 
ness were like those in health, apparently in vain. 
"When his lungs were almost gone, and on a very warm 
day in summer, when the air was motionless and filled 
with vapor, and when even those in perfect health felt 
oppressed, he sent for me. I found him gasping for 
breath, and apparently dying. He, in broken accents, 
confessed his great sins, and implored forgiveness of 
God. I told him of Christ, and of the freeness of his sal- 
vation to all who truly repented and believed. " Oh," 
said he, "I repent and believe with all my heart." I 
told him that all G-od required was the heart, and that 
when we beheved with the heart the justifying right- 
eousness of Christ was ours. " I believe with all my 
heart," was his energetic reply. I prayed with him, 
and retired, deeply pondering the event. 



230 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Profanity. Another visit. Death. 

I called next day and found him considerably re- 
lieved, but yet breathing with difficulty. I made kind 
inquiries as to his symptoms. '' Oh," said he, " there 
is nothing the matter with me but these d — d lungs," 
at the same time striking his breast with great vio- 
lence ; " they are getting better, and I hope to be soon 
out again." I was shocked at his profanity. I sought 
to recall the feelings and confessions of the previous 
day, but, inspired by his temporary relief with the hope 
of recovery, it was all in vain. The heart, which, in 
the presence of death, had melted as wax before the 
fire, had resumed its accustomed icy hardness and cold- 
ness. Fear had inspired his feelings ; and when fear 
subsided, his feelings passed away like foam upon the 
troubled waters. 

But soon death came again, and with a determina- 
tion not to be driven from his prey. I was again sum- 
moned in a great hurry to his dying bed. He was in 
the last struggle. The big, cold sweat came gushing 
from all his pores. He strove to speak, but in vain. 
He looked on me imploringly, and with a keen earnest- 
ness which made impressions now as fresh as when 
made, though years have passed away. I held up 
Christ to him, dwelling upon the text, " Look unto me, 
all ye ends of the earth, and be ye saved." I told him 
that, though he could not speak nor turn, yet he could 
look — ^that it was only to " look and live." He under- 
stood all — ^he assented to all. And he died, leaving on 
my heart the deep impression that all his religious feel- 
ings were induced by the fear of death, and that if he 
had recovered, his confessions and prayers would have 



DEATH-BED REPENTANCES. 231 

I,ate repentance uncertain. Warning to all. 

been subjects of mirth while occupying a seat among 
the scorners, and among the fools that hate knowledge. 
Instances like these have taught me, 

1. To place no strong confidence in death-bed re- 
pentances. Even when they are such as to inspire 
some hope, I say but little about them. I would not 
rudely tear away the comfort they give to surviving 
friends, but I carefully refrain from making them the 
basis of hope to any. Before G-od they may be genu- 
ine, but before man they must ever be doubtful, as 
we must judge of repentance by its fruits. 

2. They have taught me to warn all men against 
postponing repentance to a dying bed. Repentance is 
the work of our life, and of every day of it. And to 
put it aside until we can sin no more among our fel- 
low-men, until the last sands in the glass of life are 
running, is unutterably preposterous. When men make 
their will in health, why will they put off repentance 
to sickness and a dying bed ? Are the favors of Grod 
— our eternal residence, matters of such inferior im- 
portance as to be crowded into the last hours of life, 
and when utterly unable to attend to earthly things ? 

True, the thief on the cross repented, and was par- 
doned in the last hour of his life, but we do not know 
that he ever had, previously, a call to repentance. Had 
he been frequently called, and had he frequently re- 
fused to attend, we have no reason to conclude that he 
would have been called again. The most hopeless of 
men are those who have most frequently quenched the 
Spirit, and who have most frequently turned a deaf ear 
to the calls of mercy. Iron is converted into steel by 



232 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The heart of steel. Neither presume nor despair. 

being frequently hardened and suddenly cooled ; and 
thus the heart of steel is made. The only sure way 
to secure a truly peaceful and happy death is to live 
the life of the righteous. The thief on the cross is the 
only instance of true repentance, at the close of life, in 
the Bible, and that is placed on record to forbid pre- 
sumption and despair. If but one such case is on rec- 
ord, who should presume? If one is on record, who 
need despair ? 



DIFFERENT OPERATIONS THE SAME SPIRIT. 233 

Experiences. Pilgrim's Progress. Fears. 



DIFFERENT OPERATION S-THE SAME SPIRIT. 

There are many ministers who are very fond of 
relating religious experiences in their preaching ; there 
are meetings among some evangelical Christians for 
the special purpose of narrating experiences ; and in 
the religious literature of the Church, there are many 
truthful and deeply-interesting narratives of the con- 
version of men who subsequently became greatly dis- 
tinguished in life, and which are held up as almost the 
only truthful models ; and there is a great tendency to 
test our own experience by these, rather than by the 
law and the testimony ; and the more peculiar any ex- 
perience may be, the more many regard it as genuine, 
and the more anxious are they that their own should 
be a counterpart of it. That wonderful book, the Pil- 
grim's Progress, portrays in many of its thrilling scenes 
the experience of Bunyan himself, because of his pre- 
vious life and peculiar temperament, one of the most 
tempted of the children of Grod ; and I have known 
many humble and devoted disciples, because their ex- 
perience was different from that of Christian, living in 
the constant fear that they had neither lot nor part 
among the children of light. Because of the influence 
of natural temperarrient on our experience, and of our 
disposition to regard that as the most genuine which 
is the most marked by extremes, I have sometimes 



234 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Frames and feelings. False standards. Quackery. 

doubted whether these narratives were productive of 
most good or evil. Because some could tell the day, 
the place, the circumstances of their conversion, I have 
known others, giving far more evidence of a new na- 
ture, mourning because they could not. Because men 
of nervous and feeble frames were at times in the 
deepest gloom, I have heard good people, who were the 
salt of the earth, often questioning their own state 
because they had no feelings corresponding to those of 
the sainted Brainerd and Payson. And just as travel- 
ers love to visit the dashing river, whose rapids delight^ 
and whose cataracts astonish and overwhelm, rather 
than the deep, quiet one which pursues its noiseless 
way to the ocean, so good people prefer to read and 
ponder the experience to which a peculiar mind and 
temper give exciting variety, rather than that of those 
whose lives are only marked by an even, daily living 
unto Grod. 

In every case of true conversion the result is the 
same, a new nature ; but that result is produced by a 
great variety of operations. Some are converted as 
was Paul, some as was John ; some are made to quake 
under the power of their convictions and in view of 
the terror of the law ; some are so drawn by the cords 
of love as to feel but little of the one and to see but 
little of the other. To judge of the truth of conversion 
by its attending circumstances is to commit a great 
and practical mistake ; and to try a true Christian ex- 
perience by the same uniform test, is a sure proof of 
spiritual quackery. The process of reasoning that 
convinces one is a tissue of sophistry to another ; the 



DIFFERENT OPERATIONS THE SAME SPIRIT. 285 



Varying ciilture. Varying means. An instance. 

arguments that induce one to bow at the foot of the 
cross for mercy are utterly beyond the comprehension 
of another. Hence the importance of different minis- 
ters to suit the varying grades of inteUigence ; and 
as different kinds of trees require a different soil and 
culture to secure their best growth and their best fruit, 
so different classes of people require a culture suited to 
their tastes, intelligence, and dispositions, to secure 
their growth in grace. Hence the forms that refresh 
some would starve others, and the warm excitement 
of a Methodist camp-meeting, that is blessed to some, 
repels others ; some are driven to the fold of God by 
the earthquake, the thunder, the lightning ; some are 
drawn to it by the still, small voice ; some are best 
nourished to a vigorous growth in grace amid the gor- 
geous forms or high excitements of worship ; others by 
a simple, spiritual worship, quiet as the gently flowing 
river whose murmurs are never heard, and which, 
while it fertilized all on its banks, reflects the image of 
heaven. " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou 
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence 
it Cometh or whither it goeth ; so is every one that is 
born of the Spirit." " There are differences of admin- 
istrations, but the same Lord ; and there are diversities 
of operations, but it is the same God who worketh all 
. in all." And who, with even a few years' experience 
in the ministry, has not found many illustrations of 
these plain, common-sense principles ? 

Miss was the child of moral but not religious 

parents. She was brought up in a community where 
there were no means of grace save those which were 



236 PARISH PENCILING S. 



The usual process apparently omitted. 



fanatical, and rather repellant tlian attractive. She 
was sent away to a boarding-school, and returned to 
take the first position among the educated and fashion- 
able of her native town. She came some miles to at- 
tend on my ministry. I soon perceived that she was 
deeply interested, and sought an interview with her. 
Her mind was bright, intelligent, and, save on relig- 
ious subjects, well instructed. As I unfolded the doc- 
trines of the Gospel, she gave her ready assent to them 
all. As I placed Christ before her in the fullness of 
his salvation, she saw at once that he was the end of 
the law for righteousness to every one that believed 
on him, and, without hesitation, accepted of him as 
her Savior. There seemed to be no deep conviction, 
no conversion, and yet the thing required, faith, was 
there, and in its most sweet and lovely exercises. 
Without any noise, or any special attention, or any 
solicitation, she became a member of the Church. As 
a lamb enters the flock, she sought a place among the 
people of G-od ; and for a quarter of a century she has 
lived to be a blessing to the Church and to adorn her 
profession. She could tell you of the love of Grod shed 
abroad in her heart ; but of the deep convictions of 
Christian in the Pilgrim's Progress, and of the terrible 
doubts and fears of Payson, she had no experience. 
And a merchant, known and honored for many years 
in all the ways of mercantile, Christian, and philan- 
thropic life, in the city of .New York, and whose path, 
from the day he professed Christ until that of his 
death, was ''as the shining light," was often heard 
to say that he knew nothing of conviction, a part 



DIFFERENT OPERATIONS THE SAME SPIRIT. 237 

A converted papist. 

of the usual process by which sinners are usually- 
led to the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. 
" There are diversities of operations, but it is the 
same spirit." 

Mrs. L was brought up a papist, and, of course, 

in utter ignorance of the Bible and its religion. Grood 
sense, and some travel, and much intercourse with 
people of other faith, had so weakened the influence 
of her bad education over her, that she could occasion- 
ally worship within Protestant churches. She became 
an occasional, and then a frequent attendant on my 
ministry. On her solicitation, I made her a visit. 
She gave me an intelligent narrative of her life and 
of her then state of mind. She had been reading the 
Bible, and was much in prayer. As she needed the 
sincere milk of the word, I explained to her, in a man- 
ner the most simple, the leading doctrines of the Gros- 
pel. When I concluded, she said, with emphasis, 
'' This is just what I wanted to know ; this is just the 
religion I need." I prayed with her, and before I re- 
tired she was rejoicing in the Lord, and joying in the 
G-od of her salvation. Her subsequent life proved it 
to be a work of the Spirit. 

Miss was brought up in a circle of fashion, 

where the form of religion was respected, but its spir- 
ituality and power totally disregarded. Her powers of 
mind and her education were in advance of those 
around her, among whom, by her rapid perception, and 
keen wit, and generous bearing, she was an oracle. 
She became an attendant on my ministry, and soon 
deeply anxious about her soul. Her convictions were 



238 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Strong unbelief. No uniform mould. 

of the deepest character. Fearing and quaking, she 
stood, for weeks together, in the very presence of Sinai 
convulsed with tempests ; and when the voice of Mercy- 
seemed to rise above the tempest, and its melting ac- 
cents fell upon her ear, she would scarcely hear it. Her 
unbelief was strong beyond expression. She quarreled 
with every doctrine and every duty ; and nothing was 
believed or done only as the convicting Spirit subdued 
her obstinate unbelief. Finally the citadel of the heart 
was captured, and without another struggle she yield- 
ed to the commands of her Master. Her promptness 
to obey was now as great as was her perverse obstina- 
cy ; and, thinking that she could almost see the steps 
by which she ascended from the horrible pit and the 
miry clay, she yielded herself a living sacrifice to Christ, 
feeling it to be a reasonable service ; and a useful, 
consistent, and devoted life for many years proved that 
the change wrought upon her was the work of Grod. 
'' There are different operations, but it is the same 
Spirit." 

The Lord, with whom alone is the power to renew 
the heart, has no one mould into which to cast all 
hearts. He uses very different means to take away 
the heart of stone and to give a heart of flesh ; and 
he uses very different means for the cultivation of the 
graces of his people. He leads his people by ways that 
they knew not onward to the fullness of the stature of 
s perfect men in Christ Jesus. But while the means are 
diverse, the result is always the same, faith — faith bear- 
ing good fruit ; and the means are of trifling import- 
ance compared with the result; and when convinced 



DIFFERENT OPERATIONS THE SAME SPIRIT. 239 

Green pastures differ. Good men differ. 

that the heart is changed, I care nothing ahout the 
means ; and, while there is a wide difference in the 
green pastures, yet I will rejoice over all that are feed- 
ing in any of them. 

Let us beware of confining the Spirit, in the putting 
forth of its divine influence, to any of our rules, or forms, 
or Church notions. Let us beware of condemning all 
in the way of profession or experience which is not in 
accordance with our standards. Where we see true 
faith bearing good fruit, let us cultivate brotherly kind- 
ness, knowing that '^ there are different operations, but 
it is the same Spirit." Luther and Calvin differed ; 
so did Wesley and Whitfield ; and so did Dr. Mason 
and Bishop Hobart ; but they are now rejoicing in 
heaven ; and so will all the children of faith when 
their work is ended. I would not advise the laying 
aside of our peculiarities, but I would strongly advise 
to regard them as entirely secondary to faith in Christ, 
for this is the saving grace. 

I have no disposition to cut off any who believe m 
Christ from the kingdom of heaven ; but of all men, 
those most deserve this excision who exclude all from 
the grace and favor of G-od but themselves. All such 
are wholesale schismatics. 



240 PARISH PENCILING S. 



A state of deep desertion. 



THE SORROWFUL SERMOI. 

It was the day of my weekly lecture, and but a few 
months after my second settlement as a pastor. I 
spent the morning in my study in preparation for the 
Sabbath, but there was no excitement of thought or 
feeling on my mind or heart. The most important 
truths had lost all their connection, vitality, and fresh- 
ness, and seemed to lie before me like a bundle of dry 
sticks ; and to produce a thought seemed as impossible 
as to draw water from an empty well with a bucket 
without a bottom ; and the morning was spent in the 
vain effort to arrange some ideas on a selected text 
worthy of being placed on paper. Mind and heart 
seemed as barren as the sands of the desert. 

The afternoon was given to preparation for the even- 
ing lecture, but there was no lifting up of that "black- 
ness of darkness." It became denser with the approach 
of evening. The Bible was turned over from cover to 
cover, but not a text could be found from which a 
sentiment or meaning could be drawn adapted to the 
occasion or to the audience which usually met in the 
lecture-room. The very avenues to the throne of grace 
seemed barred up against all access to G-od, so that I 
could truly say, in the language of Job, '' Behold, I go 
forward, but he is not there ; and backward, but I can 



THE SORROWFUL SERMON. 241 

Horror of darkness. The meeting. Prayers. 



not perceive him ; on the left hand, where he doth work, 
hut I can not hehold him; he hideth himself on the 
right hand, that I can not see him." Of all the days 
of my life, that was the day in which I could say most 
emphatically, as to spiritual things, that '' a horror of 
great darkness" had fallen upon me. The sun, moon, 
and stars had all gone out in my spiritual sky. 

The bell rang for the evening service, and its first 
notes fell upon my ear as a death-knell. Slowly and 
sorrowfully I went to that meeting .with my people, my 
mind a perfect blank, and without a text or subject on 
which to discourse to them. It was a charming night 
in October, when the moon was shining brightly, and, 
to my regret, I found the lecture-room unusually full. 
I resolved to change the service into a meeting for 
prayer, and commenced it with the hymn, 

" How long wilt thou conceal thy face"? 
My God, how long delay 1 
When shall I feel those heavenly rays 
That chase my fears awayl" 

I called upon an aged elder to pray, who prayed with 
remarkable devotion of thought and with great unction. 
Because in consonance with my feelings, I read the 
42d Psalm, and my heart could truly respond to the 
sentiment of the Psalmist: '' my Grod, my soul is cast 
down within me . . .all thy waves and thy billows 
are gone over me." But I was yet without a text or 
subject on which to address the people. I called upon 
another elder to pray, who in his supplications entered 
fully into the spirit of the psalm ; and while he confess- 
ed and bewailed our spiritual desertion, most fervently 



242 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Topic suggested. Cecil. Decline. 

implored that the Lord would again " give us a little 
reviving in our bondage." It was during this prayer, 
and, indeed, by the prayer itself, that the topic of " de- 
clension in religion" was suggested as a theme for re- 
mark. Drawing largely on the existing feelings of 
my own mind and heart, without a text, and without 
knowing what I was going to say when I commenced, 
I entered upon the topic, and said something on the 
causes, marks, and remedy of spiritual declension. 
The following language of Cecil was brought seasona- 
bly to my remembrance, and was quoted for substance : 
" A Christian may decline far in religion without being 
suspected; he may maintain appearances. Every 
thing to others seems to go on well. He suspects 
himself; for it requires great labor to maintain ap- 
pearances, especially in a minister. Discerning hear- 
ers will, however, often detect such declensions. He 
talks over his old matters. He says his things, but in 
a cold and unfeeling manner. He is sound, indeed, in 
doctrine ; perhaps more sound than before, for there 
is a great tendency to soundness of doctrine when ap- 
pearances are to be kept up in a declining state of the 
heart. "Where a man has real grace, it may be a part 
of a dispensation toward him to permit him to decline. 
He walked carelessly ; he was left to dechne, that he 
might be brought to feel his need of vigilance. If he 
is indulging a besetting sin, it may please God to ex- 
pose him, that he may hang down his head as long as 
he lives. But this is pulling down in order to build 
up."* 

* Cecil's Keniaiiis. p. 182. 



THE SORROWFUL, SERMON. 243 

Meeting ended. A seasonable visit. Revival. 

As I proceeded, the subject seemed to open up before 
me, but I felt that I condemned myself at every sen- 
tence ; and at the conclusion of a disconnected, frag- 
mentary address, I called upon another person to con- 
clude the meeting with prayer. On the conclusion of 
the services, I returned to my study dejected, and op- 
pressed with a sense of my being forsaken of G-od, and 
grieved that I had ever assumed the responsibilities of 
the ministry. 

On the afternoon of the next day, an intelligent and 
pious female called to see me. She alluded to the 
service of the previous evening as being one of the 
most solemn she had recently attended. I heard her 
with silence, and made no response. One of the men 
who prayed soon afterward called ; he made the same 
remark. The solemnity of that evening's lecture was 
a topic of conversation for some days with those who 
were present. The prayer-meetings were soon more 
fully attended. There were searchings of heart among 
the people. Our public and social services increased 
in attendance and solemnity. The praying and the 
anxious ones, as they invariably do, multiplied simul- 
taneously ; and thus opened the first revival, in my 
second settlement, under my ministry, and which con- 
tinued for upward of a year, gently distilling its bless- 
ed influences, multiplying the followers of Christ and 
their graces. Some of its subjects are now faithful 
and useful ministers of the G-ospel. Never did I more 
fully realize the truth of the proverb, that " the darkest 
hour is just before the light," or of the saying of the 
Psalmist, " He that gocth forth and weepeth, bearing 



244 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Hidings not desertion. Their object. 

precious seed, shall doubtless come again with re- 
joicing hearing his sheaves with him." 

This dark and yet joyful incident is here noted, not 
because of its peculiarity, as there are but few minis- 
ters who have not a similar experience, but for the 
purpose of bringing out a few of the principles of which 
it is an illustration. 

The hiding of Grod's countenance is not always de^ 
sertion. "We are backward in duty, we are negligent 
in its performance, we are self-confident, we are world- 
ly. "We keep not the Lord always before us. For 
these, or for some other sins, and for their reproof, Grod 
may withdraw the light of his countenance ; and then 
we walk in darkness, as does the traveler at midnight, 
when the sun, moon, and stars have withdrawn their 
shining ; and on all such occasions the people of the 
Lord should inquire, " Why art thou cast down, my 
soul, and why art thou disquieted within me ? Hope 
thou in G-od; for I shall yet praise him who is the 
health of my countenance and my Grod." On due in- 
quiry, we will find that no new thing has happened to 
us — that a part of God's dispensations to his people is 
to show them their weakness by leaving them to them- 
selves, and to demonstrate their constant need of him 
by leaving .them occasionally to tread the weary ways 
of life by the light of the sparks of their own kindling. 
And we should be careful how we violate the principle 
thus taught and sung, 

" Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
But trust him for his grace ; 
Behind a frowning providence 
He hides a smiling face." 



THE SORROWFUL SERMON. 245 

Preaching from experience. Sameness. 

May it not be that ministers preach too Httle from 
their own varying experience? If truly good men, 
their experience, in its main outHnes, is that of all the 
Lord's people. Preachingon doctrines strengthens and 
enlightens — on duties, stimulates to action: exhorta- 
tory preaching may quicken the footsteps of the indo- 
lent ; but when they preach from their own deep, heart- 
felt experience, and whether the string they touch gives 
forth notes of joy or sorrow, they find notes responsive 
in the hearts of many hearers. The seat of religion is 
the heart ; and when they preach from an experience 
of the power of the grace of God in their own hearts, 
they are more likely to reach the hearts of their hearers. 

May it not be that the unvarying sameness which 
has obtained in our stated public and social services, 
detracts from their power and usefulness ? How often 
do ministers hear least about the preparations on which 
they have bestowed most labor; and most about the 
warm, heartfelt addresses made to meet an emergency, 
and without any previous preparation ! I have often 
observed that a warm, blundering man does far more 
for the world than a stately, correct, and frigid one. 
When we get into the habit of inquiring on all occa- 
sions, great and small, as to proprieties and expedien- 
cies, life is too often spent to little purpose. Nature 
craves for variety ; and eccleseology would reduce every 
thing to an unvarying form in public and social worship. 
Such forms of worship are as unnatural as they are in- 
jurious. Sermons occasionally without texts — sermons 
sometimes without music or prayers — and prayers and 
singing sometimes without sermons, would break in 



246 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Study variety. Cecil's omitting prayers, 

upon the monotony which has almost universally ob- 
tained, and would, at least, so far lead to awaken at- 
tention to the truth of Grod. We would not imitate 
the example of the eccentric preacher, who, on seeing 
his hearers sleeping around him, cried out " Fire ! Fire !" 
and when the aroused people asked " where ? where ?" 
replied, " for sleeping souls in hell ;" hut we would rec- 
ommend a studied effort to introduce variety into all 
the services of Grod, for the sake of our common hu- 
manity, and because of the good which may result. 
It is said of the excellent Cecil, that he often omitted 
family prayer, for the purpose of breaking in upon what 
might otherwise be regarded as a very unmeaning and 
heartless form. 

I have never forgotten the impressions, and hope 
never to forget the lessons, taught me by that sorrow- 
ful sermon. 



BEASTS AT EPHESUS. 247 

Opposition unchanged. Difficulties of missionaries. 



BEASTS AT EPHESUS. 

The difficulties amid which the Gospel of salvation 
has been preached have heen substantially the same 
in every age. Pagan and papal Rome have shed the 
blood of the martyrs, and so have papal and Protestant 
Britain. The carnal heart is enmity toward Grod, and 
the cross of Christ is yet to the Jews a stumbling 
block, and to the Greeks foolishness ; and the opposi- 
tion of the unchanged heart to the Gospel is the same 
now as when the persecuting Csesars reigned on the 
Tiber — as when Paul fought with beasts at Ephesus— 
modified in its actings only by humane laws, advanc- 
ing civilization, and the general prevalence of the spirit 
of Christianity. 

Of this general truth, the history of the labors of 
many of the domestic missionaries of every evangeli- 
cal Church in the United States would furnish abun- 
dant illustration. These laborious and excellent men 
endure many privations, and have many severe con- 
flicts with those who oppose themselves. Out, as they 
mainly are, on the selvages of society, and among those 
least morally instructed, whose passions are strong, and 
whose errors are often as bold as they are absurd and 
wicked, they often require great courage and nerve to 
stem the open opposition often made to them because 



248 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Protracted meetings. Town described. 

they preach the doctrine of repentance toward G-od 
and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 

I commenced my ministry when "protracted meet- 
ings" were popular, and when the evangeUsts, by whom 
they were conducted on the highest key of excitement, 
were regarded as " the angels of the churches." And 
although connected with a class of ministers who nev- 
er favored " the revival evangelists," and who opposed 
the " new measures" of which " anxious seats" were 
the representative, yet we yielded so far to the popu- 
lar feeling of the Church as to hold protracted meet- 
ings, which were conducted by ourselves without for- 
eign aid and without new measures. For the purpose 
of illustrating the power of the Grospel, and the kind 
of opposition with which it has not unfrequently to 
meet, I will give a brief narrative of one of those meet- 
ings. 

T was a town of some importance in Northern 

Pennsylvania. Its first settlers were chiefly from New 
England — men of enterprise and shrewdness, but with- 
out religion. It became the county town, and had its 
court-house, and jail, and taverns, but no church of 
any kind. Universalism and infidelity were there, and 
united their forces to oppose every effort to introduce 
the Grospel into the community. The only preaching- 
place was the Court-house, and, as every body had a 
right to go there, many thought they had a right to 
treat the minister when preaching as they were accus- 
tomed to treat the politician when making a political 
harangue, and especially to treat with rudeness what 
did not agree with their prejudices ; and this right was 



BEASTS AT EPHESUS. 249 

Right exercised. Tlireats. Forearmed 

often queerly exercised by interrupting a preacher, by 
putting questions to him in the midst of his sermon, 
by persons getting up and leaving the room, and, as 
they retired, pronouncing some truth declared to be a 
d — d lie. Nor were these things done simply by 
the rabble ; they were practiced and countenanced by 
men of intelligence and position. These things, and 
the morals which they cherished, obtained for the town, 
at a distance, the name of '' Satan's Seat," and caused 
many a good minister to fear to preach the Grospel 
there, lest he should be attacked and insulted by these 
emissaries of Satan, these beasts at Ephesus. 

It was in this town that a neighboring pastor of ex- 
cellent and prudent character resolved to hold a pro- 
tracted meeting, and to invite some of his brethren to 
his assistance. I was of the number invited. Our 
only preaching-place was the Court-house, which was 
duly secured for our purposes, and the meeting was 
generally advertised for weeks previous ; and expecta- 
tion was on tiptoe as to our meeting, its disturbance, 
and its results. Threats were made beforehand, and 
by men who lacked neither the energy nor the impu- 
dence to carry out their most wicked purposes. To 
be forewarned is to be forearmed, and we went to the 
Court-house prepared for an attack, but in what way it 
was to come we knew not. 

It was in the evening. The room was crowded. It 
was with difficulty that the ministers could make their 
way to the seat occupied by the judges when the court 
was in session. As the preliminary services were 
being performed, I strove to read, as I could, the crowd 
L2 



250 PARISH PENCILING S. 

The table. A group. Interruption. 

around me. Just beneath me was the green table 
around which the lawyers sat when at court, and 
around the niche in that table sat a few individuals, 
whose object in coming to the meeting could not be 
mistaken. Their whisperings, winkings, and noddings 
satisfied me as to the quarter from which difficulty 
might be expected ; and I plainly saw that they had 
their sympathizers and opposers in the crowd. Con- 
spicuous among them was a Campbellite Baptist 
preacher, of low character, and a lawyer of the place, 
who was said to be like his father, and a little more 
so ; the character of that father was a hybrid, such as 
we might expect to be produced by now pettifogging, 
and now acting as Universalist exhorter. These two 
men were the leaders. 

As I arose to preach, I paused a moment to take a 
close survey of these men. They were just beneath 
me. As their gaze met mine, they dropped their 
heads. I saw in a moment they were only braggarts 
that could be soon driven to the wall. Save the rust- 
ling of their paper, on which they were making notes, 
every thing was quiet to the close of the service. The 
moment the benediction was pronounced, the Camp- 
bellite Baptist sprung to his feet and screamed out, 
" I wish to know whether I may ask the preacher a 
few questions ?" The crowd, which commenced mov- 
ing, was brought to a dead pause, and waited in 
breathless silence for a reply. Some felt that the fight 
was now fairly opened. After a brief pause, I replied 
as follows : " We have come here to preach the G-os- 
pel for a few days to those who may choose to come 



BEASTS AT E P H E S U S. 251 

The reply. The effect. Meeting for inquiry. 

and hear us. One of our principles is to disturb no- 
body in their rehgious worship ; and another is, to al- 
low nobody to disturb us. There is a law to protect 
us from disturbance, and we shall see that that law is 
enforced." Then turning to the man who asked the 
question, I said to him, "You are either an honest or 
dishonest inquirer : if an honest one, you may come 
to my lodgings, and I will answer, as far as I am able, 
any of your questions ; if a dishonest one, as I fear 
you are, I wish to have nothing to do with you, here 
or there." He could make no reply, and the crowd 
dispersed applauding the positions taken, but yet feel- 
ing that the end of the chapter was not yet. 

As the meetings progressed, a deep solemnity was 
soon observable. As the gainsayers were regularly at 
their post, there was a constant crowd in attendance, 
in expectation, daily, of some conflict. In the evening 
they came in great numbers from the surrounding 
country, and long before the hour of service the Court- 
house was crowded to its utmost capacity. At the 
conclusion of a deeply solemn service one evening, we 
invited the serious to retire to a room in the building 
for religious conversation. As we entered the room, to 
our astonishment, we found there a large number of 
persons deeply anxious, among whom were some prom- 
inent citizens ; and conspicuous among them was the 
Campbellite preacher and his friend the lawyer. I 
saw, at a glance, that accounts must be first settled 
with these before we could proceed ; and, approaching 
the preacher, I asked him sternly, " "What, sir, is your 
object in coming here?" "I want you," he replied, 



252 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

The intruders. One sent off. About the devil. 

"to give right instruction to these anxious sinners; 
and for this purpose I wish you to read this chapter." 
And, suiting the action to the word, he put a small Bihle, 
opened, into my hands. Amazed at his cool imperti- 
nence, I returned the Bible, saying, " "When, sir, we 
need your counsel and aid, we will send for you ; and 
as we did not invite you here, you will leave the room." 
And as it was now my turn to suit the action to the 
word, I gently laid my hand upon his shoulder and 
pointed to the door, and, to my surprise, he went quietly 
away. Wickedness is always cowardly. 

Having gotten rid of one customer, I then approach- 
ed the lawyer, who had obviously more daring about 
him than the ignorant, unmannerly preacher. " And 
what, sir," said I, '' is your object in coming here ?" 
Stretching himself to his highest altitude, and in a 
semi-comic way, designed to produce merriment in that 
anxious-room, he replied, '' You have said something 
in your sermon to-night about the devil, and I thought 
I would come and ask you who the devil is." Feeling 
that it was one of those occasions which would justify 
the answering of a fool according to his folly, I replied, 
" You are the first man I have met, for some time, that 
did not know who his father was." The question and 
answer were heard by all in the room. I then said to 
him, as to his companion in wickedness, "As we did 
not invite you here, sir, you will leave the room." Soon 
the comic was changed to the tragic aspect, and he 
declared, " I will not leave the room ; this house is a 
county house, and is free and open to us all ; I have as 
good a right to be here as you have." It so happened 



BEASTS AT EPHESUS. 253 

Another turned out. His rage. New names. 

that among the inquirers was an aged, athletic man, a 
prominent citizen, and an associate judge of the county ; 

and I said to him, " Judge, will you see that Mr. 

leaves the room," He rose at once, and said to him, 

*• Mr. , you will leave the room, sir." There was 

no alternative hut to leave, and he went out enraged ; 
and he went down the stairs swearing that he would 
shoot me, as sure as he was a living man. The door 
was then closed ; we proceeded with our service, and a 
more deeply-impressed company of anxious inquirers, 
asking what they should do to be saved, I never saw. 
The services of the evening ended. There was a 
deep excitement upon many minds as to what the en- 
raged lawyer would do. Six or eight men accompa- 
nied me, or kept near me, on my way to my lodgings. 
They feared his violence ; but when I knew their ob- 
ject, I told them there was nothing to fear, as I soon 
saw the man was only a braggart. The question he 
asked up stairs, and the reply to it, soon got into circu- 
lation. The interview was all over town the next day, 
and every where the old man was hailed as " the old 
devil," and the enraged lawyer as '' the young devil." 
There were some who affirmed that rarely could the 
epithets be more appropriately applied. 

That was the end of the lawyer as far as our ser- 
vices were concerned ; but the preacher regularly at- 
tended them. He lodged at the public house, and it 
was whispered that he did not always drink cold water. 
After a solemn meeting, in which the preacher strong- 
ly presented the idea that morality, however spotless in 
the view of man, could not save a sinner, in making 



254 PARISH PENCILING S. 

To the tavern. The effects. The opposers. 

his way through the crowd, he said, "Let me go where 
niorahty is more respected than here I" I saw the hit 
would have its effect upon some minds, and in a low, 
but yet audible tone, said, " The gentleman wants to 
get to the tavern." He got out, and that was the end 
of him. 

The services subsequently proceeded without any 
disturbance of any kind. The solemnity increased from 
day to day. The G-ospel was joyfully received by many 
in that town and in the surrounding country. A 
church was organized, of which those hopefully con- 
verted at that protracted meeting were the main ele- 
ments. A church was soon erected. That ungodly 
clique was broken up, and its chief members convert- 
ed into laughing-stocks. Twenty-five years have near- 
ly passed away since that meeting, through which its 
influence for good has been felt on all the interests of 
society. That once wicked town is now the seat of 
several churches, and of, at least, one moral and educa- 
tional institution, which is destined to shed its light on 
the surrounding country, and for ages to come. 

"What has become of that Campbellite preacher, I 
know not. He was, beyond doubt, a bad man. If yet 
living, may the Lord convert him. The lawyer to get 
rid of the sobriquet, " the young devil," went to parts 
unknown, and thus happily relieved the community 
from his evil example. One of the beloved men who 
preached on that occasion has gone up to his reward, 
while three yet survive who were engaged in this con- 
flict with beasts at Ephesus. 

The malignity of these men was overruled for good. 



BEASTS AT EPHESUS. 255 

Wicked men have their use. 

They overshot the line of even allowed opposition there, 
and disgusted many. They made show of fight, and 
attracted multitudes to witness the affray. Thus they 
multiplied the hearers of the Gospel and the trophies 
of the cross. The Lord often makes the use of wicked 
men that sportsmen do of their dogs — the dogs start 
the hirds, and then the sportsmen shoot them ; so that 
beasts at Ephesus have their place in the economy of 
redemption. What they mean for evil the Lord over- 
rules for good. 



256 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Wyoming Valley. Freshets. 



DRIFT-WOOD. 

The first years of my ministry were spent on the 
"banks of the Susquehanna, and in one of the most 
beautiful valleys upon earth. It has been my lot to 
wander upon foreign shores. I have gazed upon Ital- 
ian skies and scenes ; I have wandered over the 
mountains and vales of Switzerland ; I have traversed 
the Ehine, the Ehone, the Clyde ; I have gazed upon 
most of the beautiful scenery of Britain, and yet I 
turn to Wyoming as unsurpassed in quiet beauty by 
any vale that I have ever seen. 

" A valley from the river shore w^ithdravs^n ; 

* * * -X- * 

So sweet a spot of earth, you might, I ween, 

Have guessed some congregation of the elves, 

To sport by summer moon, had shaped it for themselves." 

The river by which it is divided, enriched, and 
greatly beautified, is subject to freshets. This is 
caused, in the spring, by the sudden melting of the 
snow in the mountain ranges in which it has its rise, 
and at other seasons of the year by heavy rains. 
When swollen, as I have often seen it, it rushes on 
with fearful rapidity and violence, sweeping to destruc- 
tion every thing that lies in its way ; and when thus 
swollen, often have I stood on its banks, and gazed 
with trembling on the terrific current sweeping away 



DRIFT- W O O D. 257 



Fishing drift-wood. Various ways. 

houses, mills, trees torn from its banks, and rotten 
wood of all kinds and sizes, and whirling them in 
every direction as if they were but corks. 

These freshets were occasions of some importance 
to that class of people, too large in every community, 
who live by their wits. These, taking their position 
on the bank of the river with fit implements, were la- 
borious in their efforts to fish from the turbulent cur- 
rent the floating timbefs. They were often success- 
ful, and in a few days would pile on the shore drift- 
wood enough to supply them with fuel for a few 
months. It was quite amusing to witness the scenes 
which often occurred. "When a large timber was seen 
in the distance, each was anxious to be its captor. 
One would harpoon it, and when shouting out,-'' I 
have it," the force of the current would sweep it away ; 
and thus many would successively harpoon it, but yet 
it would escape from them all. The size of the log 
and the force of the current gave it a momentum that 
no arm could resist. Grreat exertion was often made 
to bring a drift to the shore ; but when caught, it was 
found worthless, and was cast back again into the 
foaming waters. At a sharp turn in the river much 
lumber was driven on shore, and to that spot many 
would rush, hoping there to catch a fine log, but it 
would shoot round the corner and disappoint them all. 
Some lumber would float into an eddy, or would get 
entangled among the trees on the low bottoms, or 
would be caught by a pier, where it was considered 
secure ; but, on a sudden, the power of the current 
would drive it into the middle of the river, and down 



258 PARISH PENCILINGS. 

Collected for fire. A type. A college boy. 

it would go, disappointing all hopes. When the fresh- 
et rapidly subsided, much lumber was left upon the 
dry land, there to remain until another should come 
and carry it farther down toward the ocean. It was 
not even picked up as fuel for the fire. One thing 
was very observable, that the drift-wood was but rare- 
ly fitted to be wrought into a building, or to be used 
for any ornamental purpose. It was usually gathered 
into heaps, and when sufficiently dry, to be burned. 

And all this is but the type of what is constantly 
occurring in society around us. Are there not freshets 
in society as upon our great rivers ; excitements, polit- 
ical, moral, and religious, which work great changes, 
which reveal men of principle, which tear up and send 
adrift those not rooted and grounded in the truth ? In 
what community or in what calling are not persons to 
be found whose only fit emblem is drift-wood ? 

I had a college-mate of many good qualities. He 
was fluent, rapid in his conceptions, a professor of re- 
ligion, but vain and ambitious. He was a candidate 
for the ministry. But there were indications that his 
vanity was stronger than his principles, and that to 
feed the one he would sacrifice the other. The fresh- 
et came in our junior year, when, on the giving out 
of the appointments which indicated the standing of 
the students as scholars, he failed to obtain any. He 
expected one of the highest ; he got none. His pride 
was mortified beyond endurance — he left college — ^he 
gave up the ministry — ^lie made shipwreck of faith — 
he went out upon the sweeping tide of politics, where, 
no doubt, unless radically changed, his principles are 



DRIFT-WOOD. 259 



A young divinitj^. High flight. Another specimen. 

yet the weaker, and his vanity the stronger power. 
Such persons can never be any thing but drift-wood. 

I had a theological class-mate of very good qualities. 
He was good-looking — he dressed well — ^he wrote po- 
etry — he flattered, and was flattered by, the ladies. 
He knew more about Tom Moore than Turretin ; he 
read Greek less than Goethe ; he preferred Walter to 
Thomas Scott, and could quote Byron at least as well 
as the Bible. Yanity was his besetting sin. He got 
license to preach, but could get no settlement. Think- 
ing that the people of the Church of his fathers were 
too dull to appreciate his shining qualities, he passed 
over to another. To be in keeping with his high 
flights, he became High- Church, and whither the fresh- 
et has carried him I know not. He has written a 
book, as I learn, on " The Succession," of which he 
knows as much as about the precession of the equinox- 
es, and which has only served to prove that he was, or 
is, drift-wood. 

I had yet another fellow-student. He was young, 
ruddy, and prepossessing. Although yet in his teens, he 
was deeply imbued with the spirit of New Measures, 
then on the high tide of successful experiment. He 
denounced his teachers as pharisees and fogies. "Wliile 
yet a student, he practiced his new notions in a small 
way. Finding but little encouragement for his novel- 
ties, he changed his latitude for more congenial climes. 
He entered the ministry a New-measure man, greatly 
exciting the hopes of their friends. He went abroad, 
and became enamored of the old, petrified measures of 
the Old World, and on his return deserted his former 



260 PARISH PENCILING S. 

From hot to cold. " One of Three Hundred." Another. 

friends. Now, excitements were only injurious, and 
Church power and set forms were every thing. This 
was a change from the equator to the poles. For a 
while he linked himself with the straitest sects of the 
Church of his fathers, but that did not long suffice. 
He was on the hosom of the swollen river, and could 
not stop. At a hound he became a Puseyite, and, 
whether for funds or to make friends, wrote one of the 
most disgraceful and truthless books known to theo- 
logical controversy in modern days. The book by 
'' One of Three Hundred" proves, at least, that its au- 
thor was of the drift-wood species. He had no root in 
himself ; he was the prey of every current ; and if he 
had remained a little longer, another swell of the 
freshet would have swept him from his Oxford eddy, 
and would have left him deep in the mud of the Tiber, 
praying to the Yirgin to take him out and clean him 
off. 

Another specimen of the same genus. He was bold, 
bluff, and self-confident. "When a student he went to 
three colleges, and claimed credit for it ! He went, at 
least, to three seminaries, to get the good of each. He 
was educated a Presbyterian, ordained a Congregation- 
alist, became, I believe, a Methodist, then a Baptist ; 
but what he now is, I know not, nor does he know him- 
self. Each thought they had him, but he escaped from 
them all. The harpoon entered the log in a soft place, 
where it could not hold. What has become of him I 
know not ; but when next drawn to the shore, he may 
be cast back again into the current as too worthless to 
repay the trouble of fishing him out. 



DRIFT-WOOD. 261 



Exceptions. Changeling. A conscientious elder. 

There are exceptions to all general rules. In the 
course of his studies, a young man may see reasons suf- 
ficient to leave the Church of his early education for 
some other. No man is bound to the faith of his fa- 
thers, because, if so, the Jew must remain a Jew, the 
pagan a pagan, the papist a papist, forever. No young 
man is to be censured for departing from the faith of 
his fathers, if he does so for reasons, and wisely. But 
when men have formed their opinions, and preached 
them for years, and then change them, it is an evidence 
of a restless, disordered state of mind. One or two at- 
tacks of any disease renders the system liable to its re- 
turn ; and one or two changes in opinions is liable to 
convert the individual into a changeling, and to send 
him out upon the stream of life as drift-wood. 

And how many there are connected, as private mem- 
bers, with the churches whose only fit emblem is drift- 
wood. They go here and there as prejudice, or passion, 
(5r fashion, or some disappointment may sway them. 
I knew an elder twice censured in a Presbytery, who, 
in revenge, became a most violent High-Churchman, 
and had all his children rebaptized for conscience' sake ! 

Mr. and family were from England ; according 

to their own showing, they left the husks of the Estab- 
lishment for the simple truth of the Independents. 
They then attached themselves to the ministry of some 
supralapsarian shoemaker. They came to this coun- 
try, but for a long time could find no suitable suc- 
cessor to the shoemaker. As I was considered as com- 
ing nearest to him, they placed themselves under my 
ministry. For a time they would have plucked out 



262 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A fever. The unsettled numerous. Causes. 

their eyes and given them to me ; but the Millerite 
fever became epidemic, and they caught it badly. The 
fanatics of that threadbare nonsense became their fa- 
vorites. I no longer preached the Grospel, because I did 
not preach up the destruction of the world about Easter, 
and advise the faithful to commence cutting their as- 
cension robes. They were swept out as drift-wood 
upon the bosom of the freshet, but where it has carried 
them is hardly worth the inquiry. 

And persons of whom drift-wood is the true emblem 
are to be found in every community, and attached to 
all congregations. They are as numerous as those who 
are ungoverned by fixed principles. Thete are those 
in the ministry who can pass from this body to that, 
from this school to that, with all ease. These regard 
themselves, and would be regarded by others, as mod- 
erate and catholic. But there is another explanation 
for all this ; their own lines of opinion are drawn with 
invisible ink, and can be shifted to suit circumstances ) 
they have no root in themselves. There are those in 
the churches upon whom you can make no calculation. 
The next freshet may carry them into some new con- 
nection, or work a change in their entire views and 
feelings. I look around me, and see persons who have 
been connected with three churches in less than three 
years. I see others who have passed from one denom- 
ination to another because their minister did not like 
secret societies, or preach up, to the point of scalding 
heat, the efficacy of some plans of social reform. And 
there are but few churches in the land where the fresh- 
ets to which human opmions and society are ever liable 



D R I F T - AV O O D. 263 



Deposits. Dr. Priestley. A wide difference. 

have not deposited some of this drift-wood, where it 
will remain until the rise of another freshet, when it 
will be again swept out and whirled we know not 
whither. When the tree is torn up by the roots and 
swept into the current, there is no telling where it will 
stop ; and if brought to shore, it will be difficult to re- 
plant it. It will not pay for the labor. Dr. Priestley 
was once a high Calvinist, then a low one ; then an 
Armenian ; then a high Arian, then a low one ; then a 
Unitarian ; then a Humanitarian ; and he was once 
heard to say, " If Grod spares me a few years more, I 
know not what I shall be before I die." "When a stone 
is started on the brow of the mountain, it is hard to 
stop it until it reaches the bottom. 

Many make a great noise when a minister, or per- 
sons in high position, pass over to them. But they 
have caught only drift-wood. How long they can keep 
them is uncertain ; and to what use they can put them 
is often a question. 

There are those who are steadfast, immovable, al- 
ways abounding in the works of the Lord, and those 
who are ever learning and never coming to the knowl- 
edge of the truth. The first are as the cedars in Leb- 
anon, that bear fruit even to old age, and that are fit 
to be converted to the most useful purposes in the house 
of the Lord ; the second are but drift-wood, scarcely 
fit to feed the fires that warm it. 



264 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Christian women. Spartan and Christian mothers. 



A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 

It will never be known, until the day of final reveal- 
ing, how much the Church of Grod and the world owes 
to the prayers, the teachings, the quiet, home influence 
of Christian woman. What pastor is there that does 
not acknowledge her powerful influence for good in 
every department of usefulness ? And were it possible 
to subtract from the entire influence of the Church all 
that is contributed to it by Christian woman, it would 
be weakened to a degree of which we can scarcely form 
a conception. If Spartan mothers made heroes by de- 
voting their sons on the altar of their country to its 
service. Christian mothers have made martyrs, and 
missionaries, and ministers, and incorruptible patriots, 
and true citizens, by devoting them on the altars of the 
Church to their Grod. A woman of sense, of strong 
principles, and of consistent, firm piety, will make her 
impression upon her children. She will give form and 
direction to their tastes before they know it; and in 
the school-room, among their playmates, and even in 
the highest moods of frolic and fun, they will testify to 
her influence by their superior conduct. The good Jo- 
siah was the son of Amon, a monster in wickedness, 
and the grandson of Manasseh, under whose superla- 
tively wicked reign the Hebrews sunk to a lower depth 



A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 265 

Mother of Josiah. Her influence is extended. 

in departure from Grod than did the Canaanites before 
them ; but his mother was a pious woman. And when 
the sacred historian would tell us that " Josiah was 
eight years old when he began to reign," and that " he 
did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, and 
walked in all the ways of David his father, and turned 
not aside to the right hand or to the left," he would 
also inform us, as if to account for the whole, that '' his 
mother's name was Jedidah." As a mother in Israel, 
Jedidah devoted her infant son to G-od ; she prayed 
around his cradle; she instilled divine principles into 
his youthful mind ; she taught him to fear G-od, and 
to fear nothing else ; and when Amon, her husband, 
fell by the murderous daggers of his own servants, in 
his own house, and when the people made the princely 
boy king in his place, it is said, boy as he was, that 
'' he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord." 
" While he was yet young, he began to seek after the 
G-od of David his father ; and in his twelfth year he 
began to purge Judah and Jerusalem from the high 
places." After reigning thirty-one years, he was slain 
in battle in the valley of Megiddo ; " and all Judah and 
Jerusalem mourned for Josiah." And his pious youth, 
and his prosperous reign, and the holy influence that 
went out from his throne over all his kingdom, may 
be traced, under God, to the piety and precepts of his 
mother. '' His mother's name was Jedidah." 

Such a mother in Israel it has been my great privi- 
lege to know. She was among the kindest friends and 
wisest counselors of my early ministry ; and although 
years have passed away since her departure for the 

M 



266 PARISH PENCILING S. 

A noble woman. History. First acquaintance. 

Church triumphant, the savor of her name and memo- 
ry is as sweet ointment poured forth. 

She was the daughter of a New England clergyman, 
and was descended from a Puritan family, many of 
whose members rose to distinction in the Church and in 
the state. She became, while yet young, the wife of 
a merchant in her native state, who for years was en- 
gaged in prosperous business. By some of the reverses 
of trade, his property was suddenly swept away like 
stubble before the conflagration, and he was reduced 
to poverty. The effect upon him was unhappy through 
life ; his spirits were broken, and he fell into bad hab- 
its. They removed from New England, and on my 
first settlement I found them connected with my con- 
gregation, far advanced in life, and with a most inter- 
esting family of children. Although not in affluent 
circumstances, yet were they such a family as imme- 
diately attracted attention, and commanded respect be- 
yond what wealth could purchase. 

I first saw that good old lady in her seat in the 
Church. She was there when I entered it. She wore 
her glasses, and through the service appeared remark- 
ably devout ; and as if for the purpose of reading me 
through and through, she looked over them, and through 
them, as best answered her purpose. Such was the 
impression she made upon me, that I made inquiry as 
to who she was before I left the Church. 

On my first visit to her she was reserved, and ap- 
parently depressed. My predecessor in the ministry 
was dismissed after a protracted strife, which left many 
bitter feelings. She adhered to him to the last ; and 



A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 267 

Her trouble. Time to pack away. Reserved. 

she seemed to regret that, with so Httle experience, I 
should launch my frail hark amid waters so troubled . 
She looked on my youth — she remembered past con- 
flicts — and she was troubled. And all this she most 
kindly though timidly intimated. She was the least 
forward, for a woman of her strong sense, that I ever 
knew. 

Her former pastor was afflicted with a natural hesi- 
tancy in speaking, which was considerably increased 
by an attack of paralysis ; and his enemies plead this as 
one among the many reasons for which they urged his 
removal. But, with a remarkable dexterity, she con- 
verted it into an argument for his remaining. " We 
hear the G-ospel," she would say, "with too little 
thoughtfulness and application. One truth is uttered 
after another, and before we can weigh one, another is 
on the top of it, and another on the top of that ; and 
thus the Gospel runs through our minds like water 
through a glass tube : none of it sticks ; and when we 
come home, we remember nothing that we have heard. 

Now I Hke these long pauses of Mr. G , because 

they give me time to pack away what he says." On 
first hearing this sentiment from her own lips, I imme- 
diately formed my estimate of her, which I had never 
reason to change, save on the side of a higher admira- 
tion of her character. 

Although, when interested, her conversational pow- 
ers were very fine and remarkably suggestive, yet she 
was habitually reserved. Her voice was never heard 
in the street, nor in the social gathering, save in its low 
tones. She was candid in her opinions, deliberate in 



268 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Firmness. Hearing the Gospel. Devotional frame. 

the formation of them, and cautious in their utterance ; 
hut when formed, she never yielded them save for a 
reason, and alv^ays changed them for a good reason. 
Hence she was an oracle to many, and her opinions 
were the law of her household. So extended was her 
knowledge of Christian doctrine and experience, that 
she could resolve perplexity as to either with remark- 
able skill ; and her advice was constantly sought by 
the serious, the inquiring, and the desponding. 

The excuse she made for her former pastor revealed 
her manner of hearing the Grospel. She always pre- 
pared for the house of G-od — was always there when 
able to go — and heard with devotion and application. 
She would let the commonplaces go ; but she would 
seize with avidity upon important truths, and would 
'' pack them away," to be brought out on future occa- 
sions for use. • She cared far less about the manner 
than the matter ; and when persons would be depreci- 
ating ministers because of their dullness or want of ele- 
gance, she would quote some sentiments to which they 
had given utterance, and would say, '' Until I do all 
they have taught me, I have no fault to find." 

Her devotional spirit was of a marked character. 
She was not an ascetic — she had no ritual hours — she 
was no believer in the virtue of forms ; and while I 
know nothing about her closet hours, I never found her 
otherwise than in a devotional frame. G-od, to her, 
was every where and in every thing ; and she sought 
to do all she did as under his eye and to the glory of 
his name. Her devotion was not confined to the Sab- 
bath nor to set occasions : it was habitual. "While she 



A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 269 



God's presence. Principles. 



had her alternations of depression and joyfulness, the 
omnipresence of Grod was often a theme of remark, and 
she could say, 

" Within thy circling power I stand, 
On every side I find thy hand ; 
Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, 
I am surrounded still with God." 

And a constant sense of his presence acted as fuel 
to feed the fires of her devotion. Often have I seen 
her remaining in the church until all had left it, as 
if praying that the services might be hlessed of the 
Lord, and then quietly walking alone to her house, as 
if '' packing away" and applying the truth that had 
heen preached. 

Her principles never yielded to her prejudices or af- 
fections. They were her rule and law. A remarkable 
instance and illustration of this she gave in the case 
of her youngest child. She called him by the name 
of her New England pastor, to whom she was remark- 
ably attached, and to whom also she owed a debt of 
gratitude for many*kind favors. He became an avow- 
ed Unitarian ; and the moment she was convinced that 
her friend and benefactor had denied the divinity of 
her Lord and Master, her sense of gratitude and her 
strong affection yielded to her principles. She changed 
the name of her son ; and he yet lives, bearing and 
honoring the name of one of Old England's noblest 
judges, instead of that of an apostate from the truth as 
it is in Jesus. 

Her faith in G-od was strong, and but rarely waver- 
ing. It was to her the substance of thinor.s hoped for, 



270 PARISH PENCILING S. 

Her faith. Wherefore this Avaste 1 Her husband. 

and the evidence of things not seen. During a pro- 
tracted service, in which those eloquent and sainted 
men, "Winchester and Dr. John Breckenridge, assisted, 
she was a constant and devout attendant ; and when 
a service would conclude without any apparent results, 
she would ask, " Wherefore this waste ? wherefore this 
waste ?" She was looking for the descent of the Spirit 
upon every service, and expressed her disappointment 
when her anxious prayers were not answered. But 
they were answered, and in a way that will be felt in 
that community and for ages to come. She has already 
commenced the undying song with some who were 
then born again, and with some who preceded her from 
her own household. 

The salvation of her husband was with her a daily 
solicitude. His habits were bad ; and although ami- 
able, he had grown gray and decrepit in the ways of 
impenitence. There was every thing in his case to 
discourage hope ; yet her hope in reference to him never 
wavered. He died of protracted disease, and gave to 
her, to his children, and to all who visited him, as good 
an evidence as such cases usually afford, that he died 
in the Lord. Her remarkable faith in reference to him, 
and its protracted exercise among difficulties, make his 
a far more hopeful case than death-bed repentances 
usually are. I have no doubt but that the soul of her 
husband is now a shining star in the crown of her re- 
joicing. 

But it was especially upon the minds and hearts ot 
her children that she left the deepest impression of her 
character. They resembled her physically. Her ways 



A MOTHER IN ISRAEL. 271 

Her children. Their position. Pious life immortal. 

of thinking, her very tones of voice, they caught. Her 
prudent caution — ^her natural reserve — ^her adherence 
to principles, were theirs ; and although all of them 
were not converted until after her death, her faith never 
wavered as to the conversion of them all. She com- 
mitted them all to the Lord, and she knew that he 
would keep that which she had committed unto him. 
Among the last words she ever uttered were these, in 
reference to her children : '' Lord, all mine are thine." 
And every one of her children were brought into the 
Church, the youngest since her happy death, and most 
of them yet live, filling and adorning positions of dis- 
tinguished usefulness. One is an eminent jurist, 
worthy of the place once occupied by a Marshall. One 
is a clergyman known in all the Church for his abili- 
ties and amiable virtues. One was the lovely wife of 
a minister, whose sun went down before it reached its 
noontide. Two are ornaments of the bar and of the 
medical profession. One died in hope, the wife of an 
army surgeon, and was buried by the waves of the 
Mississippi. And two others, in the spheres in which 
they move, are serving their generation according to 
the will of Grod. 

That mother is gone ; but her influence lives in her 
children, and will be transmitted to her children's chil- 
dren to the remotest times. Such a life as she led is 
immortal. She was a mother in Israel, and deserves 
a place, as do many others, by the side of Jocebed, 
Hannah, and Jedidah, the mothers of the pious Moses, 
Samuel, and Josiah. 

When such mothers are multiplied in Israel, there 



272 PARISH P E N C I L I N G S. 

The highest style of woman. 

will be more piety in the Church, and more patriotism 
in the state, and more principle every where. A pious, 
intelligent mother, living by faith, and bringing up her 
household for heaven, is the highest style of woman. 






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